A couple of weeks ago I was working the “night shift,” finishing up a project after hours in the coffee shop across the street. I shared a table with another woman who was bent over her computer. We exchanged pleasantries and she announced her occupation.

“Oh, I’m I professional writer, too!” I responded. I didn’t mean to, but I think I squealed with delight. She pursed a little upside-down smile and looked back at her computer.

“What do you write?” she asked, already typing and no longer interested.

“I’m a freelance copywriter,” I announced, undaunted by the disinterest. And she, in turn, was undaunted by my continuing interest.

“Ah,” she said.

“And you?” I countered.

“I write for the entertainment industry.”

The entertainment industry? What did that mean? Postcards for symphonies? Grants for theater troupes?

By now I had gotten the hint that she wasn’t interested in sharing the details of her day-to-day work, nor was she remotely interested in hearing about my interesting newsletter content or my really effective sales letters. We both returned to our tasks, and we said no more words until the baristas politely kicked us out.

Although I’m fairly well known as an overly sensitive woman and I could be reading too much into our conversation, I left with the distinct impression that she considered herself a “real professional writer.” A couple of days later, I heard her telling a barista that she had been in the shop a couple of months ago when she was working with so-and-so on a script. She didn’t consider freelance copywriting a true writing profession. I had a job; she was an artist.

Frankly, I think she’s full of bull. I’ve written in-depth feature stories, press releases, brochures, technical manuals, resumes, ad copy, hard news stories, columns, editorials, blogs, marketing plans, phone scripts, business proposals, grant applications…. Writing is writing. It’s all the same. Each and every commercial writing project follows the exact same steps:

1. Identify the audience for the piece and understand as much as you can about their demographics.
2. Identify the reason for the piece and what you want the audience to do or understand when they receive it.
3. Identify the tone that’s appropriate for the piece based on the audience, the message and the format.
4. Write the dang thing.

So, let’s say she writes movie scripts for silly comedies. She has to understand who is going to want to go to these movies: perhaps males ages 13-29. The reason for the piece? To make these guys laugh until Dr. Pepper comes out their noses, or, even better, until they uncontrollably pass gas from too many belly laughs. The tone of this piece? Not quite slapstick — more a tone where the use of the word “slapstick” would evoke snickers about male sexual behavior.

Now, I’m not saying I could do Number 4 here — “write the dang thing.” I can identify very well with some audiences, and others I have difficulty embracing. Chances are I would fail trying to reach the demographic of men who can talk to a woman for an hour without ever seeing her face. But the act of writing is the same, and we share the same skills.

Frankly I am quite proud of the type of writing I do, and I’m very excited when I complete a piece that makes my clients happy. I’ve got plans to delve into writing commercial fiction before I die, and I’m definitely working on full-length commercial non-fiction. And when my third book comes out and I’m seated in the coffee shop working on the fourth, I don’t think I’ll feel like I’m any more a writer than I do when I’m polishing up the copy for an oversized postcard.