The novice, new to a sustained expression activity, is reminiscent of the neophyte writer who enters an IRS taxpayer service site to get help with a federal tax question. In the foyer she sees a small sign: “Tax Help.” Above it is a much larger poster with myriads of arrows pointing in every conceivable direction. However, there’s no clue where any of the arrows go. Two other separate arrows on separate signs are clearly marked: “Audits” and “Collections.” Clearly they don’t involve “Tax Help” and also don’t point where anyone wants to go.
In this blog, I’ll make it clear where the crucial arrows go and how best to avoid or prepare for ones clearly labeled pointing toward audits and collections.
Now, a crucial question for you: do you have a business plan for your expression activity? If you want results, you must plan. A plan allows you to look ahead, allocate your wherewithal, concentrate on key points, and prepare for problems and opportunities. Planning is vital for operating a business, whether you’re just starting up, getting a new loan, or making or soliciting a new investment. Plans facilitate optimal growth and development.
If, at this stage, you’re still trying to figure out if you’re a writer, if you’re still just focused on that first novella, a third sculpture, or perhaps only your second book design, then by all means now is possibly not the time to read this book. On the other hand, if you begin to see the glimmer of possibilities of succeeding as an artisan of expression and getting significant tax benefits as you start up, then stay tuned.
Some wit coined a term, intaxication, used to describe the stupefaction caused by the Internal Revenue Code (or IRC, as it’s known in the profession—otherwise referred to by some snooty attorneys who look down on it as Title 26 of the United States Code ).
In the Fall of 2005, I worked every day with the IRC at my side—my version published in 2004 contained 9,390 pages—and five volumes of similarly sized Treasury Regulations, necessary to explain the IRC. That’s over 54,000 pages alone, none of it what could be described with a straight face as a “good read.” Not only that, but the text in the IRC volume was fifty-fifty size-eight and size-six fonts.
Immediately across the hall from my office resided a vast library of books containing further explications, opinions, and tangential laws related to the IRC, bless its little (and I mean tiny) heart.
A friend told me when she was small and her mom took her to the town library, she dreamed of reading every single book in it. Only the most sick-of-soul person dreams of reading all the volumes in that tax library situated across from my former office. Such would result in inebriant effects: dizziness, nausea, regurgitation, and loss of consciousness. I confess I’ve suffered the effects myself.
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