John R. McCarthy —I’ll call him Johnny—retired from Rocketdyne, Inc. He’d worked as a scientist and engineer for 35 years writing technical and scientific proposals. Thereafter, he still worked, but was self-employed, utilizing his prior experience.
On various Schedules C, Johnny listed his “principal business or profession” as writing, investing, job shopping, art, engineering, science, consulting, teaching, photography, and research. (A bit unfocused, eh?) Johnny stuck some royalties, interest income, and lecture fees characterized as business income on the Schedule C pertaining to writing. Despite asserting that he used those resources to pay for writing expenses, such income didn’t derive from any writing he had done. Johnny should have reported these royalties and fees as “other income” and the interest income on the interest-income line on his tax return.
The court said that Johnny’s expenses which truly related to writing couldn’t offset such income which didn’t come from writing. Everything Johnny did made it look like he was confused and undecided. To use a cliché, Johnny was a jack of all trades and a master of none. The expenses he listed on various Schedules C related to his writing activity all right. Writing was the only activity he really engaged in with regularity. Concluding that he should have reported everything on a single Schedule C pertaining only to writing, I’ll bet you’re not surprised to hear that the court concluded that he lacked a profit motive. He hadn’t generated any writing revenue. While aspects of his activity were managed in a businesslike manner, Johnny couldn’t explain how he expected to recoup his substantial losses. A sound, focused business plan and accurate and complete financial and non-financial records could have helped—both in making his business profitable and in convincing the IRS he had a “profit motive.”
Don’t muck things up. Forget trying to disguise income from other sources as income for expression activities. That’d be crazy. Keep records—business and non-business—that present operations clearly, completely, and succinctly. Remember the bard’s advice: brevity is the soul of wit. Mind your debits and credits if you use them. If not, don’t scrimp on accuracy, meticulousness, and using the data germane to and used in conjunction with a vibrant, viable and compelling business plan. Make it crystal clear that you have a plan to succeed as a writer—that your goals show that you plan to be as successful as J. K. Rowling or Dave Barry. If you’re convincing enough, you’ll never have to worry about convincing the IRS that you’ll recoup your losses.
Non-financial records should include databases of contacts, customers, and consultants, along with their pertinent information. If you’re a writer, you should keep track of the hours of your writing, researching, and editing. You should have a database to show details about your submissions, including the title of the work, where you submitted it, the date, follow-ups, responses, sales, etc.
One further thing: keep your expression activity records separate from personal records and other business records. Have separate expression activity credit cards, debit cards, checking and savings accounts, and accounts at your favorite vendors. If you have more than a single proprietorship, don’t ever intermingle them. Doing so may subject you to ridicule.
Showing posts with label deductions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deductions. Show all posts
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Is My Expression Activity a Trade or Business?
Guess what? Federal income tax law and related regulations don’t define what “trade or business” means. Surprised? You shouldn’t be. I told you there was plenty of mystery in taxation. Ambiguity, it seems, is intentional. Some wit compared an income tax return to a girdle. You put the wrong figure in it and you can get pinched.
Tests to check if a trade or business exists stem mostly from court opinions (primarily from the United States Tax Court or from appeals made from those decisions ). Courts have developed two key definitional elements, one for “profit motive” and the other relating to the “scope” of the activities.
Finding out the motive is a key element in figuring out a mystery, right? A trade or business doesn’t exist unless a taxpayer “enters into and carries on” an activity with a good faith intention to make a profit or in the belief that a profit can be made from the activity. Money is the motive—bottom-line profit. That means you have cash left after all expenses are paid. Faith that an activity will generate a profit doesn’t need to be reasonable. However, simply hoping and wishing it will be profitable absent specific plans suggests that you lack good faith.
Remember the cold-fusion fiasco? The notion that oodles of cheap atomic energy could be produced cheaply and “coldly”? Too good to be true, right? Well, one Burnet Outten, Jr.—I’ll call him Bernie—representing himself without an attorney, took his tax controversy concerning cold fusion and graces relative to it to the U.S. Tax Court in 1984.
Bernie seemed a bit “unusual.”
He didn’t file federal tax returns from 1972 to 1979, for one thing. He had an interest in Western Metal Products Company (Western), a manufacturing concern. Besides manufacturing, according to Bernie, Western conducted atomic energy research. Yet Bernie was the only company participant in such research. Ostensibly, an experiment in 1951 resulted in nuclear fusion. Bernie, however, didn’t “realize” that nuclear fusion had occurred in 1951 until 1961, while doing further research. Bernie purported that Western repeated the 1951 experiment in 1971. Neither Bernie nor Western ever patented any such process.
Bernie believed that the world was created by cold fusion. He seized upon the alleged religious significance of the creation of the world by such process. His legal briefs contained extensive arguments about scientific experimentation and religious freedom. They explored history from Thomas Jefferson to Ronald Reagan and from the Bible to reports of the Atomic Energy Commission.
Over the years Bernie often attempted to inform scientists and government officials of his miraculous “discovery,” asserting that it was never duplicated. Some commentators expressed polite interest; others found it . . . well, a joke.
Neither Bernie nor Western received any filthy lucre, let alone profit, from said nuclear fusion “process.” No income relative to it was reported. Western’s income, if any, came only from manufacturing. Nonetheless, by 1978 Western established a $50,000,000 book value for this fusion “process.” On 1977 through 1979 tax returns, Western listed net operating losses of $100,000, $10,000,000, and $5,000,000, respectively. The preparer of the return described these losses as a “write-off of capitalized research work.” Bernie concluded that a grace was justified because government officials ignored him and his “discovery.” It was strange. Sort of like the President of the United States releasing his tax returns which listed the economy as a liability and write-off.
During the audit Bernie listed various actual expenditures—small amounts—that he made during the years involved. He gave the list to IRS. These included mostly expenses for his home office and for his move. IRS attorneys acknowledged that the expenditures were made by Bernie, but scoffed at them falling within any acceptable grace. The Tax Court concurred, saying that Western faced “a multitude of obstacles.” The court focused on just one: profit motive. It said that no income was generated nor was any likely to ever be generated from the fusion activity.
Well, let’s face it. Bernie’s circumstances were “singular.” His mistakes cost him more taxes. He was like a conservative president deducting right-to-lifers as dependency exemptions, accepting his election as a gift, and trying to write off the losses in Iraq. Nonetheless, something can be learned from Bernie’s case. As a man of religion once said, “If you make a mistake, all is not lost. You can always be used as a bad example.” So let’s use Bernie’s case as a bad example. It can teach us what not to do. I’ll summarize some points below and expand upon them in chapters to follow.
First and foremost, figure out how to make money from your expression activity. Have a profit. Bernie didn’t make any money from cold fusion. Make a written plan setting forth how you plan to make a profit from your expression activity. Follow it. If it doesn’t make money, change your plan so you think it will after the change. Keep following the plan and revamping until you make money or decide you can’t make money. If it comes to that, your expression activity becomes increasingly difficult to sell as a trade or business. Eventually, it becomes almost impossible to convince the cynics at IRS.
Second, keep complete and accurate records, both of a financial nature (you know, dollars and cents, checkbooks, receipts, debits and credits, etc.) and non-financial records (like submission databases, contracts, business plans, correspondence with agents, diaries or journals, etc.). From the opinion of the Tax Court in Outten v. Commissioner, it doesn’t appear that Bernie kept very good records of his activities, does it?
Make certain that your expression activity has substance. Don’t be naïve like Bernie was by boasting it hadn’t been duplicated when duplication was the very thing that may have given it some scientific credence. Know the ins and outs of your activity and know how to communicate them.
Another thing; don’t try to hide your expression activity results for tax purposes within some other, perhaps more viable enterprise on your tax return. For instance, it looks as if Bernie tried to make his cold fusion activity transparent by burying it in the Western partnership operations. If you write fiction part time and work as a lawyer most of the time, don’t bury the profit-and-loss statement of your fiction-writing activity within the profit-and-loss of your law practice. Doing so makes you look like a cheat and a ditz. Don’t do it. It’s not savvy. They are separate activities, for pity’s sake.
To be or not to be; that’s the question. To be a trade or business there has to be enough business activity and profit objective. Get them and you’re home free. Such are measured objectively . . . well, that’s what the laws and courts say, anyway. Tax shelters, for example, often have neither sufficient business activity nor profit objective. Many therefore receive no graces. To be certain, a trade or business can exist with no profits in the early years (and sometimes none are earned for many years and yet a court approves), provided there’s a prospective profit sufficient to cover the losses. You don’t have to expect that profits from your expression activity will come immediately or within a short time, but your aim to profit must be genuine. If challenged, you have to be able to persuade the IRS or a court. If you’ve stacked up $100,000 or more of losses over multiple years, you have to be able to convince the IRS (and if not the IRS, then a judge) that your expression activity will earn enough not only to make an annual profit but to recoup your prior losses.
Tests to check if a trade or business exists stem mostly from court opinions (primarily from the United States Tax Court or from appeals made from those decisions ). Courts have developed two key definitional elements, one for “profit motive” and the other relating to the “scope” of the activities.
Finding out the motive is a key element in figuring out a mystery, right? A trade or business doesn’t exist unless a taxpayer “enters into and carries on” an activity with a good faith intention to make a profit or in the belief that a profit can be made from the activity. Money is the motive—bottom-line profit. That means you have cash left after all expenses are paid. Faith that an activity will generate a profit doesn’t need to be reasonable. However, simply hoping and wishing it will be profitable absent specific plans suggests that you lack good faith.
Remember the cold-fusion fiasco? The notion that oodles of cheap atomic energy could be produced cheaply and “coldly”? Too good to be true, right? Well, one Burnet Outten, Jr.—I’ll call him Bernie—representing himself without an attorney, took his tax controversy concerning cold fusion and graces relative to it to the U.S. Tax Court in 1984.
Bernie seemed a bit “unusual.”
He didn’t file federal tax returns from 1972 to 1979, for one thing. He had an interest in Western Metal Products Company (Western), a manufacturing concern. Besides manufacturing, according to Bernie, Western conducted atomic energy research. Yet Bernie was the only company participant in such research. Ostensibly, an experiment in 1951 resulted in nuclear fusion. Bernie, however, didn’t “realize” that nuclear fusion had occurred in 1951 until 1961, while doing further research. Bernie purported that Western repeated the 1951 experiment in 1971. Neither Bernie nor Western ever patented any such process.
Bernie believed that the world was created by cold fusion. He seized upon the alleged religious significance of the creation of the world by such process. His legal briefs contained extensive arguments about scientific experimentation and religious freedom. They explored history from Thomas Jefferson to Ronald Reagan and from the Bible to reports of the Atomic Energy Commission.
Over the years Bernie often attempted to inform scientists and government officials of his miraculous “discovery,” asserting that it was never duplicated. Some commentators expressed polite interest; others found it . . . well, a joke.
Neither Bernie nor Western received any filthy lucre, let alone profit, from said nuclear fusion “process.” No income relative to it was reported. Western’s income, if any, came only from manufacturing. Nonetheless, by 1978 Western established a $50,000,000 book value for this fusion “process.” On 1977 through 1979 tax returns, Western listed net operating losses of $100,000, $10,000,000, and $5,000,000, respectively. The preparer of the return described these losses as a “write-off of capitalized research work.” Bernie concluded that a grace was justified because government officials ignored him and his “discovery.” It was strange. Sort of like the President of the United States releasing his tax returns which listed the economy as a liability and write-off.
During the audit Bernie listed various actual expenditures—small amounts—that he made during the years involved. He gave the list to IRS. These included mostly expenses for his home office and for his move. IRS attorneys acknowledged that the expenditures were made by Bernie, but scoffed at them falling within any acceptable grace. The Tax Court concurred, saying that Western faced “a multitude of obstacles.” The court focused on just one: profit motive. It said that no income was generated nor was any likely to ever be generated from the fusion activity.
Well, let’s face it. Bernie’s circumstances were “singular.” His mistakes cost him more taxes. He was like a conservative president deducting right-to-lifers as dependency exemptions, accepting his election as a gift, and trying to write off the losses in Iraq. Nonetheless, something can be learned from Bernie’s case. As a man of religion once said, “If you make a mistake, all is not lost. You can always be used as a bad example.” So let’s use Bernie’s case as a bad example. It can teach us what not to do. I’ll summarize some points below and expand upon them in chapters to follow.
First and foremost, figure out how to make money from your expression activity. Have a profit. Bernie didn’t make any money from cold fusion. Make a written plan setting forth how you plan to make a profit from your expression activity. Follow it. If it doesn’t make money, change your plan so you think it will after the change. Keep following the plan and revamping until you make money or decide you can’t make money. If it comes to that, your expression activity becomes increasingly difficult to sell as a trade or business. Eventually, it becomes almost impossible to convince the cynics at IRS.
Second, keep complete and accurate records, both of a financial nature (you know, dollars and cents, checkbooks, receipts, debits and credits, etc.) and non-financial records (like submission databases, contracts, business plans, correspondence with agents, diaries or journals, etc.). From the opinion of the Tax Court in Outten v. Commissioner, it doesn’t appear that Bernie kept very good records of his activities, does it?
Make certain that your expression activity has substance. Don’t be naïve like Bernie was by boasting it hadn’t been duplicated when duplication was the very thing that may have given it some scientific credence. Know the ins and outs of your activity and know how to communicate them.
Another thing; don’t try to hide your expression activity results for tax purposes within some other, perhaps more viable enterprise on your tax return. For instance, it looks as if Bernie tried to make his cold fusion activity transparent by burying it in the Western partnership operations. If you write fiction part time and work as a lawyer most of the time, don’t bury the profit-and-loss statement of your fiction-writing activity within the profit-and-loss of your law practice. Doing so makes you look like a cheat and a ditz. Don’t do it. It’s not savvy. They are separate activities, for pity’s sake.
To be or not to be; that’s the question. To be a trade or business there has to be enough business activity and profit objective. Get them and you’re home free. Such are measured objectively . . . well, that’s what the laws and courts say, anyway. Tax shelters, for example, often have neither sufficient business activity nor profit objective. Many therefore receive no graces. To be certain, a trade or business can exist with no profits in the early years (and sometimes none are earned for many years and yet a court approves), provided there’s a prospective profit sufficient to cover the losses. You don’t have to expect that profits from your expression activity will come immediately or within a short time, but your aim to profit must be genuine. If challenged, you have to be able to persuade the IRS or a court. If you’ve stacked up $100,000 or more of losses over multiple years, you have to be able to convince the IRS (and if not the IRS, then a judge) that your expression activity will earn enough not only to make an annual profit but to recoup your prior losses.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Good News
Generally, individuals can deduct outlays made seeking income, whether in carrying on a trade or business or only conducting an activity for profit. The major “grace” connected with Doug’s writing activity—or for that matter with your expression activity—stems from IRC §162. Ordinary and necessary expenses paid or incurred during the taxable year in carrying on a trade or business are allowed as deductions or graces.
The meanings of “trade or business,” “ordinary and necessary,” and “carrying on” are all important. In a hierarchy of importance of these aspects for the freelancer of expression, the meanings of “carrying on” and “trade or business” exceed the importance of the meanings of “ordinary and necessary” because their scope is broader.
If expenditures aren’t made “carrying on” a “trade or business” the question of whether or not they are “ordinary and necessary” becomes moot. They can’t be deducted to create a loss that can be used to offset other income—related or unrelated to the freelancing income, or carried to other tax years to recoup or save taxes. On the other hand, if expenditures are made while carrying on a trade or business, they still must be ordinary and necessary. But that’s an expenditure by expenditure evaluation, almost always a barrier that is much narrower.
An anecdote tells of a taxpayer asking a revenue agent to cite the law requiring him to pay additional income taxes. Supposedly the taxpayer jests that the revenue agent will die of eye fatigue and confusion trying to find it in the code.
Well, I have news, bad and good. The bad news is that the taxpayer got it wrong. Almost invariably it works the other way around. The revenue agent generally worries only about the all-inclusive income provision (IRC §61). All income is taxable unless saved by some legislative grace. Taxpayers bear the burden of coming within the terms of some grace or other.
The good news? You don’t have to worry about arrows pointing every which way and not knowing how to find the way to go. I’ll show and tell you ways to bear that burden in the following postings. So don’t pout and say “It’s too much, I surrender.” Stick with me here and see if what I say won’t work for you.
The meanings of “trade or business,” “ordinary and necessary,” and “carrying on” are all important. In a hierarchy of importance of these aspects for the freelancer of expression, the meanings of “carrying on” and “trade or business” exceed the importance of the meanings of “ordinary and necessary” because their scope is broader.
If expenditures aren’t made “carrying on” a “trade or business” the question of whether or not they are “ordinary and necessary” becomes moot. They can’t be deducted to create a loss that can be used to offset other income—related or unrelated to the freelancing income, or carried to other tax years to recoup or save taxes. On the other hand, if expenditures are made while carrying on a trade or business, they still must be ordinary and necessary. But that’s an expenditure by expenditure evaluation, almost always a barrier that is much narrower.
An anecdote tells of a taxpayer asking a revenue agent to cite the law requiring him to pay additional income taxes. Supposedly the taxpayer jests that the revenue agent will die of eye fatigue and confusion trying to find it in the code.
Well, I have news, bad and good. The bad news is that the taxpayer got it wrong. Almost invariably it works the other way around. The revenue agent generally worries only about the all-inclusive income provision (IRC §61). All income is taxable unless saved by some legislative grace. Taxpayers bear the burden of coming within the terms of some grace or other.
The good news? You don’t have to worry about arrows pointing every which way and not knowing how to find the way to go. I’ll show and tell you ways to bear that burden in the following postings. So don’t pout and say “It’s too much, I surrender.” Stick with me here and see if what I say won’t work for you.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Don’t be naïve like the anxious taxpayer who was visited by a revenue agent. The agent completed her audit and presented a proposal for a lot more taxes. It seems the taxpayer had claimed costs of a vacation trip for his entire family to Hawaii, arguing that he needed to personally experience snorkeling in order to achieve realism in his television drama Nowhere to Be Found. The agent evangelized as she watched the taxpayer’s eyes and mouth widen as he reviewed her proposal for more taxes and penalties. “You know, Mr. Taxpayer, it’s a great privilege to live and work in the USA,” she said. “Citizens have an obligation to pay their fair share. And we really expect you to pay with a smile.”
“Thank God,” said the taxpayer with a guffaw. “I thought you’d want cash.”
This blog will try to give you answers, the statistics, the possibilities, the strategies. Not only that, but I hope it will entertain you too, relieve your worry, and banish your anxiety by teaching you the best strategies for managing your freelancing business as you express yourself—making the process literally less taxing. Sit back and relax when the IRS calls. Change the IRS acronym from Internal Revenue Service (or as many taxpayers call it, the Infernal Revenue Service) to: I’m Really Sorry, IRS . . . but I don’t owe those taxes.
“Thank God,” said the taxpayer with a guffaw. “I thought you’d want cash.”
This blog will try to give you answers, the statistics, the possibilities, the strategies. Not only that, but I hope it will entertain you too, relieve your worry, and banish your anxiety by teaching you the best strategies for managing your freelancing business as you express yourself—making the process literally less taxing. Sit back and relax when the IRS calls. Change the IRS acronym from Internal Revenue Service (or as many taxpayers call it, the Infernal Revenue Service) to: I’m Really Sorry, IRS . . . but I don’t owe those taxes.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
What Does It All Mean?
Such questions as were posed in yesterday's posting characterized the cases of myriad taxpayers who appeared before me during my career as what was once stiltedly called an “appellate conferee.” That title gave way to the simpler “appeals officer.” But what didn’t grow simpler during my career was the Internal Revenue Code. It has grown thicker in every conceivable dimension.
Well, while you’re thinking about Doug’s chances, think about this. On March 3, 2005, Peter Jennings wrapped up the night’s newscast by saying, “Finally here this evening, one very large tax bill. The government says it has never seen anything like it before. Walter Anderson, a multimillionaire businessman, appeared in a Washington, D.C. court today, accused of failing to pay more than $200 million in taxes. The government alleges that Mr. Anderson used several elaborate schemes to hide his considerable income. It's a lot of money.” Anyway, that’s $200,000,000 smackers of taxes, indeed a lot of money. Any normal person would ask himself: with government going after the likes of Walter Anderson and getting that large a return on their investment in resources, why would IRS operatives even care if Doug deducts the measly costs of his trip to Vietnam to get pictures depicting oversized loads on motorcycles?
On August 29, 2005, the IRS reported that the accounting firm KPMG LLP (KPMG) had admitted to criminal wrongdoing and agreed to pay $456 million in fines, restitution, and penalties as part of an agreement to defer prosecution of the firm. In addition to the agreement, nine individuals—including six former KPMG partners and the former deputy chairman of the firm—were headed for criminal prosecution in relation to the multibillion-dollar criminal tax fraud conspiracy. The fraud per the IRS and Justice Department related to the design, marketing, and implementation of fraudulent tax shelters.
Again, does it make any sense to worry about the IRS devoting resources to Doug’s crummy little Vietnam trip? Even if—shame on him—he takes his family with him and deducts their costs, too? Why should the IRS care about Doug when it can get the kind of return they have on KPMG? Or the return they possibly got on KPMG’s clients, who claimed billions of dollars in tax benefits from the fraudulent tax schemes and all owed the tax back plus interest and penalties? We’re talking about billions of dollars. What’s the risk to little old Doug of the IRS throwing its resources after him for deducting one lousy trip to Vietnam? Not much? A lot? Somewhere in the middle? And if the IRS does go after Doug, what’s the risk to him that the IRS will prevail? How much will it cost Doug? Does he risk serving jail time? And what about monetary fines or penalties? Is he at risk? What about his reputation? He is, after all, an aspiring author on the possible precipice of great things. Could the publicity help him?
All good questions. Many things for Doug to think about, to learn, to consider and ponder before he puts the costs of that trip on his profit-and-loss statement on a Schedule C and attaches it to his Form 1040, exposing it to the potential ravages of a dreaded IRS agent or auditor. And maybe, just maybe, those answers and many, many more important ones like them, both for Doug and for you, are just as important as finding a perfect simile or eliminating an unnecessary gerund, finishing the last chapter of your novel, entering that disquieting contrapposto or portrait in an art contest, or acquiring an agent to sell your work or a gallery to display your sculptures.
What does it mean to carry on the freelancing of expression in a businesslike manner? How does a person maintain a complete and accurate set of books? How important is it to consult advisors and have expertise? How much time and effort does a person need to expend in the actual conduct of freelancing? Does anybody care? Questions. Many pertinent and probing questions for every freelancer of expression.
Well, while you’re thinking about Doug’s chances, think about this. On March 3, 2005, Peter Jennings wrapped up the night’s newscast by saying, “Finally here this evening, one very large tax bill. The government says it has never seen anything like it before. Walter Anderson, a multimillionaire businessman, appeared in a Washington, D.C. court today, accused of failing to pay more than $200 million in taxes. The government alleges that Mr. Anderson used several elaborate schemes to hide his considerable income. It's a lot of money.” Anyway, that’s $200,000,000 smackers of taxes, indeed a lot of money. Any normal person would ask himself: with government going after the likes of Walter Anderson and getting that large a return on their investment in resources, why would IRS operatives even care if Doug deducts the measly costs of his trip to Vietnam to get pictures depicting oversized loads on motorcycles?
On August 29, 2005, the IRS reported that the accounting firm KPMG LLP (KPMG) had admitted to criminal wrongdoing and agreed to pay $456 million in fines, restitution, and penalties as part of an agreement to defer prosecution of the firm. In addition to the agreement, nine individuals—including six former KPMG partners and the former deputy chairman of the firm—were headed for criminal prosecution in relation to the multibillion-dollar criminal tax fraud conspiracy. The fraud per the IRS and Justice Department related to the design, marketing, and implementation of fraudulent tax shelters.
Again, does it make any sense to worry about the IRS devoting resources to Doug’s crummy little Vietnam trip? Even if—shame on him—he takes his family with him and deducts their costs, too? Why should the IRS care about Doug when it can get the kind of return they have on KPMG? Or the return they possibly got on KPMG’s clients, who claimed billions of dollars in tax benefits from the fraudulent tax schemes and all owed the tax back plus interest and penalties? We’re talking about billions of dollars. What’s the risk to little old Doug of the IRS throwing its resources after him for deducting one lousy trip to Vietnam? Not much? A lot? Somewhere in the middle? And if the IRS does go after Doug, what’s the risk to him that the IRS will prevail? How much will it cost Doug? Does he risk serving jail time? And what about monetary fines or penalties? Is he at risk? What about his reputation? He is, after all, an aspiring author on the possible precipice of great things. Could the publicity help him?
All good questions. Many things for Doug to think about, to learn, to consider and ponder before he puts the costs of that trip on his profit-and-loss statement on a Schedule C and attaches it to his Form 1040, exposing it to the potential ravages of a dreaded IRS agent or auditor. And maybe, just maybe, those answers and many, many more important ones like them, both for Doug and for you, are just as important as finding a perfect simile or eliminating an unnecessary gerund, finishing the last chapter of your novel, entering that disquieting contrapposto or portrait in an art contest, or acquiring an agent to sell your work or a gallery to display your sculptures.
What does it mean to carry on the freelancing of expression in a businesslike manner? How does a person maintain a complete and accurate set of books? How important is it to consult advisors and have expertise? How much time and effort does a person need to expend in the actual conduct of freelancing? Does anybody care? Questions. Many pertinent and probing questions for every freelancer of expression.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Why Are People So Greedy?
While working for her husband’s dentistry practice, Karen Cavaretta billed insurance companies for work he hadn’t done. Why? Didn't she have enough, living as the wife of a dentist who made good money? I guess not.
She pled guilty to fraud charges, he then repaid the money, and they deducted the repayments as his business expenses. IRS didn't think the repayment should be a business expense.
She pled guilty to fraud charges, he then repaid the money, and they deducted the repayments as his business expenses. IRS didn't think the repayment should be a business expense.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Start-up Expenses, Office-in-the-Home, and More
JOHN Y. DING faced the IRS in Tax Court relative to what they claimed were his "business expenses." He claimed a bunch of expenses relative to his employment and a prospective business he was trying to get off the ground. It results in an interesting discussion and analysis of various matters including start-up expenses versus business expenses, rules governing an office in the home, and documentation, including the application of the Cohen rule.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Education Expenses --- Are They Deductible?
This case gives a good review of applicable law:
LORI A. SINGLETON-CLARKE vs COMMISSIONER OF INTERNAL REVENUE
It involves a RN who went back to school to become more effective in her then-present duties. She realized that nursing had evolved greatly in the 24 years since she earned her bachelor’s degree, and she felt disadvantaged working with highly educated doctors.
LORI A. SINGLETON-CLARKE vs COMMISSIONER OF INTERNAL REVENUE
It involves a RN who went back to school to become more effective in her then-present duties. She realized that nursing had evolved greatly in the 24 years since she earned her bachelor’s degree, and she felt disadvantaged working with highly educated doctors.
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