So I’ve been busy. Like super busy. Super hella busy.
You get the idea.
But all this craziness is, in no small part, due to my life as a writer. I’ve got some stuff I can go into and some I can’t but today we’re going to focus on something so far out of left field that my brain came to a grinding halt when I learned about it.
That’s right folks, we’re going to talk about the IRS. As delightful as they are generous, the IRS’s influence extends to nearly every portion of our lives. I thought my writing portion was safe, but it turns out there really is nowhere to hide.
Let me explain:
So I’ve been applying to various events in the Michigan area where I can set up as a vendor and sell my book. One of the applications I received asked me for my Michigan Sales Tax ID number and I was understandably confused.
And for the days that proceeded, my confusion only grew. It turns out, in America’s High Five of a state, that anyone who plans on processing more than 200 transactions and/or $100k worth of profits (wouldn’t that be nice) needs to have a Sales Tax ID number.
Here enters the insidious IRS into this otherwise wholesome tale.
Even though I am a corporation of one, peddling my books at local events, I have to charge taxes, and I have to report my income to big brother.
It’s been a long and confusing process, but I did it. Last week I finished my application, got my confirmation number, and am just waiting for my Sales Tax ID to be mailed my way!
Wish me luck…
Bye for now!