Pat here, and today’s question pulled out of our own hat is:
-- When did you first think of yourself as a writer?
There's a school of thought that says that if you write, you're a writer. While I wouldn't argue with that, I think there's a difference between calling yourself a writer and simply writing; I cook every day, but I don't call myself a cook.
I've been writing ever since I was a child -- scribbled stories in exercise books, songs, the odd (and I mean odd) poem, plays, and letters, lots and lots of letters. In my student household we had long-running correspondence between housemates -- not about house work or anything mundane or practical -- it was purely for fun, and contained a story thread and characters and occasional rhymes (mad doggerel) and all kinds of silliness. And it continued in letters long after we'd moved out, started work and lived in scattered parts of the country. Writing to friends in fun and silliness has always been a joy to me.
Some years back I started writing seriously, with the aim of getting published, but I never called myself a writer. I'm not sure I even thought of myself as a writer because, to me, being "a writer" carried with it some kind of professional connotation. I'd say "I'm writing", or even "I'm trying to write" but I didn't call myself a writer until long after I was published. I waited until I had several books published, and writing was my main source of income, as well as my main professional activity.