catch up (ec, taxes)
20 April 2011
While my lack of recent posting is based primarily on the fact that I’ve been both personally and professionally busy lately (lies) (mostly), it’s also because I got trapped in some long posts. You see, I’d start a post with the idea of making it long, but then something would come up to distract me; then I’d go back to it a day or two later, but by then I’ve lost some momentum and I’m forcing it; then something else comes up to take me away; then I go back to the post and though I think it now stinks, I’ve already written a lot of it, and don’t want to waste those words and that effort; then I wind up avoiding it and doing nothing. So you get nothing.
I know you could probably care less about this sort of “behind the scenes” blogging (and you’ve probably stopped reading altogether – not that I blame you), but I wanted to offer you at least a little explanation. After years and years of doing this, I’ve learned that blogging is like being in a fight or in an orgy – you can’t think, you just have to act. Just get in there, put your head down, let your basic human instincts take over, and try to make it through it as quickly and as safely as possible. If you approach it any other way, you’ll fail.
So here we are. Fuck the long posts, let’s just talk.
Two of the more interesting (to me) things that I wanted to catch us all up on so that we can move forward.
I saw the shit out of Elvis Costello. When I heard that Elvis was playing a small, April Fool’s Day 11pm show at the Gramercy Theater (with a seating capacity of about 500), I got all sorts of lusty. But then I got all sorts of sad, because there was no way I’d be able to get tickets – not just because it’s small place, but also because I’m lazy and would forget when the tickets went on sale and yada yada yada.
Well, fortunately, I have a friend who works at Live Nation who gave me and the lady the hook-up. And when I say “hook up,” I mean “front row seats with waitress service – and by the way, the waitress looked like a more Hispanic Jessica Alba.” Um, yes, please.
The show was terrific (OF COURSE). My girlfriend is not so familiar with Elvis Costello, whereas I am squarely in the “Super Fan” spectrum. As such, her biggest takeaways from the evening were a) he puts on a good show and b) there were a lot of guys in their late 40’s totally flipping the fuck out.
But my biggest takeaway from the evening was how incredibly old I’ve gotten, apparently incredibly quickly. Back when I was younger, seeing an Elvis Costello concert at 11pm on a Friday would involve binge drinking from 5pm until the start of the concert, having terrible (cheap) seats at the show, and then standing outside the concert hall for as long as it takes to meet Elvis, who usually signs autographs after his shows. Then, I’d go get more fucked up and text an ex-girlfriend before passing out on my couch at 4:12am with a slice of pizza and/or my dick in my hand. For this particular EC show, “pre-gaming” was dinner at CraftBar, not drinking beer (instead, whiskey) because I was worried about having to get up and pee during the show, taking a Pepto on the way to the theater because I felt poo pains coming on, seeing the show and acting like a maniac (which remains the same) from a distance so close I could have hit Elvis with a ping pong ball (which is different), and then going home and passing out immediately after the show’s ending – no waiting for Elvis, no nightcap, no pizza, no nothing.
I try not to dwell on how different my life has become in the last few years, because sometimes it makes me sad.
Boy, did I beat the IRS. As usual, I waited until the last minute to get my taxes done. As usual, it was a nightmare. There are two complicating factors when it comes to my taxes.
1) When you get paid a book advance, you receive the advance without any taxes having been taken out. So for example, if someone says that they got a $1,000,000 book advance, they got a check from the publisher for $850,000 (less the 15% agent fee).
(Well, that’s not true, as you either get book advances in thirds – when you sign, when the publisher accepts the manuscript, and when the publisher prints the manuscript – or in halves – when you sign and when they accept.)
(Also, just for the record, I did not get a $1,000,000 advance. If I did, we wouldn’t be talking right now, as I’d be way too cool for you. And also I would have died, like, months ago, probably only hours after receiving the $850K check.)
Because advances are untaxed, it is the author’s responsibility to save or put away a portion of the untaxed advance to pay off the taxes later. If by “put away” we mean “put away up my nose in the form of something that makes me feel indestructible and great but makes me sad the next day,” then yes, I put away a lot of the portion of the untaxed book advance I got in 2010. But if we mean “put away” in the save-some-for-taxes sense, well, whoops.
2) Though I may not be considered so by you, by most of my family and friends, and certainly by book reviewers, according to the government, I am a writer. Yes, I have my 9-to-5 gig, but because I make income from writing, I gots me two jobs, so says the IRS.
The good thing about this is that I can write shit off like a mother fucker. I’m not going to get too into here (because doing so would surely get me audited), but any research or promotion related to the book can be thusly written off on my taxes. And because in 2010 I did a lot of promotions (e.g., various book tours and travels that were paid by me and not the publisher), I had my work cut out for me.
So last week, after downloading a year’s worth of bank and credit card statements, I spent hours and hours of my down time going through the statements, line by line, trying to determine what I could and could not write off (which also helps to explain the lack of posts). This is a long and laborious and terrifying process, particularly because it’s downright alarming to see where a year’s worth of money goes (I don’t know who owns Dempsey’s, but, before moving out of the LES, I was apparently putting their children through college; likewise with Amazon, as the “Prime” shipping was both the best and worst thing to happen to my financials in 2010).
BUT, things somehow worked out. I went to my main Armand at H&R Block and though I was expecting to break even, I’m actually getting money back. So when you’re making up a list of things that are wrong with America today, please add this to that list.
But hey, at least I’m putting that money to good use – I’m about 90% sure I’m headed to London the last weekend of May for the Champions League Final. More details to come, but I can’t think of a better way to thank Uncle Sam than by taking my money out of the country and spending it on shrimp-flavored potato chips.
(Please don’t audit me.)
I know you could probably care less about this sort of “behind the scenes” blogging (and you’ve probably stopped reading altogether – not that I blame you), but I wanted to offer you at least a little explanation. After years and years of doing this, I’ve learned that blogging is like being in a fight or in an orgy – you can’t think, you just have to act. Just get in there, put your head down, let your basic human instincts take over, and try to make it through it as quickly and as safely as possible. If you approach it any other way, you’ll fail.
So here we are. Fuck the long posts, let’s just talk.
Two of the more interesting (to me) things that I wanted to catch us all up on so that we can move forward.
I saw the shit out of Elvis Costello. When I heard that Elvis was playing a small, April Fool’s Day 11pm show at the Gramercy Theater (with a seating capacity of about 500), I got all sorts of lusty. But then I got all sorts of sad, because there was no way I’d be able to get tickets – not just because it’s small place, but also because I’m lazy and would forget when the tickets went on sale and yada yada yada.
Well, fortunately, I have a friend who works at Live Nation who gave me and the lady the hook-up. And when I say “hook up,” I mean “front row seats with waitress service – and by the way, the waitress looked like a more Hispanic Jessica Alba.” Um, yes, please.
The show was terrific (OF COURSE). My girlfriend is not so familiar with Elvis Costello, whereas I am squarely in the “Super Fan” spectrum. As such, her biggest takeaways from the evening were a) he puts on a good show and b) there were a lot of guys in their late 40’s totally flipping the fuck out.
But my biggest takeaway from the evening was how incredibly old I’ve gotten, apparently incredibly quickly. Back when I was younger, seeing an Elvis Costello concert at 11pm on a Friday would involve binge drinking from 5pm until the start of the concert, having terrible (cheap) seats at the show, and then standing outside the concert hall for as long as it takes to meet Elvis, who usually signs autographs after his shows. Then, I’d go get more fucked up and text an ex-girlfriend before passing out on my couch at 4:12am with a slice of pizza and/or my dick in my hand. For this particular EC show, “pre-gaming” was dinner at CraftBar, not drinking beer (instead, whiskey) because I was worried about having to get up and pee during the show, taking a Pepto on the way to the theater because I felt poo pains coming on, seeing the show and acting like a maniac (which remains the same) from a distance so close I could have hit Elvis with a ping pong ball (which is different), and then going home and passing out immediately after the show’s ending – no waiting for Elvis, no nightcap, no pizza, no nothing.
I try not to dwell on how different my life has become in the last few years, because sometimes it makes me sad.
Boy, did I beat the IRS. As usual, I waited until the last minute to get my taxes done. As usual, it was a nightmare. There are two complicating factors when it comes to my taxes.
1) When you get paid a book advance, you receive the advance without any taxes having been taken out. So for example, if someone says that they got a $1,000,000 book advance, they got a check from the publisher for $850,000 (less the 15% agent fee).
(Well, that’s not true, as you either get book advances in thirds – when you sign, when the publisher accepts the manuscript, and when the publisher prints the manuscript – or in halves – when you sign and when they accept.)
(Also, just for the record, I did not get a $1,000,000 advance. If I did, we wouldn’t be talking right now, as I’d be way too cool for you. And also I would have died, like, months ago, probably only hours after receiving the $850K check.)
Because advances are untaxed, it is the author’s responsibility to save or put away a portion of the untaxed advance to pay off the taxes later. If by “put away” we mean “put away up my nose in the form of something that makes me feel indestructible and great but makes me sad the next day,” then yes, I put away a lot of the portion of the untaxed book advance I got in 2010. But if we mean “put away” in the save-some-for-taxes sense, well, whoops.
2) Though I may not be considered so by you, by most of my family and friends, and certainly by book reviewers, according to the government, I am a writer. Yes, I have my 9-to-5 gig, but because I make income from writing, I gots me two jobs, so says the IRS.
The good thing about this is that I can write shit off like a mother fucker. I’m not going to get too into here (because doing so would surely get me audited), but any research or promotion related to the book can be thusly written off on my taxes. And because in 2010 I did a lot of promotions (e.g., various book tours and travels that were paid by me and not the publisher), I had my work cut out for me.
So last week, after downloading a year’s worth of bank and credit card statements, I spent hours and hours of my down time going through the statements, line by line, trying to determine what I could and could not write off (which also helps to explain the lack of posts). This is a long and laborious and terrifying process, particularly because it’s downright alarming to see where a year’s worth of money goes (I don’t know who owns Dempsey’s, but, before moving out of the LES, I was apparently putting their children through college; likewise with Amazon, as the “Prime” shipping was both the best and worst thing to happen to my financials in 2010).
BUT, things somehow worked out. I went to my main Armand at H&R Block and though I was expecting to break even, I’m actually getting money back. So when you’re making up a list of things that are wrong with America today, please add this to that list.
But hey, at least I’m putting that money to good use – I’m about 90% sure I’m headed to London the last weekend of May for the Champions League Final. More details to come, but I can’t think of a better way to thank Uncle Sam than by taking my money out of the country and spending it on shrimp-flavored potato chips.
(Please don’t audit me.)
