The Adventures of Two Men Who . . .

Ralph resolved to write a story about the adventures of two men who travel across the country to patronize Nevada brothels, where such establishments are—ahem—legal. In early 1993, Ralph drafted an 18,000-word basic storyline. He submitted his draft along with Lightning at Dawn and Boys and Girls Together in June for copyright protection. Ostensibly to make the story realistic and to develop characters with fidelity, Ralph visited numerous legal brothels in Nevada as a “customer.”

I can hear cogs in your mind working. If you’re like most, you’re saying, “Never mind telling me about deducting traveling expenses for going to Vietnam to obtain motorcycle pictures for a picture book.” A more vital question is: could Ralph deduct those costs? Well, we’ll see.

Ralph wrote in his journal. Note that, to Ralph’s credit, he kept a non-financial contemporaneous record. He wrote about his personal experiences at these—excuse me—whorehouses. He chronicled which bordellos he visited, the dates and even, sometimes, the hours.

Ralph’s notes described prostitutes he met and the amounts of lucre he paid. For each journal entry, Ralph wrote about these visits, about what happens at cathouses (Like people don’t know?). For instance, Ralph described selecting his strumpets, the “house rules,” negotiating prices for a gal’s time, their discourse—yes, discourse, not some other course—and the ladies’ clothing. He included personal information on his courtesans, including age, physical characteristics, place of residence, religion, ethnicity, education, and names and ages of offspring.

Ralph’s journal indicates that, at some point during said encounters, he told the demimonde he was writing a book about Nevada’s bordellos. He wanted to use them as characters.

The journal shows that during 1993 Ralph spent about three days a month—except in February, May, and December—meeting prostitutes at brothels. Using materials so gathered, he produced Searchlight, Nevada.

Anxious to sell his work, Ralph consulted the 1993 Writer’s Market. There he read about Northwest Publishing, Inc. Northwest’s entry stated that it published hardcover, trade paperback, and mass market originals and reprints, between forty and fifty titles a year on seven to eight hundred queries and five hundred manuscripts a year. Some eighty-five percent of said manuscripts came from first-time authors and ninety-five percent came from unagented writers. Northwest said that it paid a ten to fifteen percent royalty on retail price, publishing books four months after acceptance of submitted manuscripts.

Blood From A Turnip

Our prospective Vietnam traveler, Doug, who was mentioned in prior postings, works as an administrator for wages (“W-2” income ). His employer pays him what’s left over after withholding federal employment and withholding taxes, among other amounts. Law requires his employer to withhold and pay over taxes on behalf of Doug. Almost everyone is acquainted with working for wages and has complained about withholdings. It’s not that the government doesn’t trust us, but it’s a pay-as-you-go system. And of course, they don’t trust you.


So Doug has income. The critical question now, though, is whether Doug’s prospective costs in traveling to Vietnam to get pictures to use in a potential picture book relate to activities that generate his wages. The answer is no, the two activities don’t relate. At most his wage income facilitates Doug’s going, but that’s all. There’s no link between his administrative job and his potential trip to gather photographs. Any income related to a picture book is only speculative.

On the other hand, suppose Doug has previously written other things and sold them or won prize money for his writing. Maybe he uses those revenues to fund his trip. Now we begin to see a closer connection. Maybe Doug pitches his picture book idea to an agent or editor and he gets positive feedback, and he has a contract, implied or otherwise. His writing is an activity, separate and apart from administrating for an employer, and has a closer connection to his prospective picture book-making activity. So now, assuming Doug finances his trip to Vietnam from revenues from his writing activities, is he home free in deducting those expenses?

One of the IRS auditors who sent many taxpayers my way to appeal his extreme exactions (and extractions) of more tax had a morbid sense of humor. He’d say, “Invariably my taxpayer will pick the thing up and turn it over. You know, trying to figure it out. It looks sort of like a misshapen hourglass, don’t you think? And instead of sand it has that dark-red, almost purple, viscous fluid in it. The thing just sits there on my desk, across from me and close to them, while I go through their bank statements, receipts, and canceled checks. Taxpayers become bored. ‘What’s this?’ they eventually say, picking it up.”

“And what do you tell them?”

“Blood from a turnip.”

As you can imagine, timid taxpayers don’t laugh at such morbidity. Nevertheless, those engaged in expressive activities like you need to know that hidden traps can humor sinister auditors when all you want to do is to deduct the costs of creating a book design or a picture book trip.