As my first royalty checks make their way to my bank account this month, I am reminded of that wonderful thing called taxes. Don’t misunderstand, I have in no way, earned enough money, from my little book, to be taxed on it, but all income still has to be declared, so this past week I found myself registering as a self-employed author.
At the end of the day, it doesn’t really mean anything. I’m hardly earning an income from my writing at the moment, and still trudging to my shop assistant job day in day out, but it did bring home to me how real the situation is.
I’m actually taking this writing thing seriously!
I can hear you all say… Weren’t you taking it seriously when you paid for an editor and proofreader?
Well, I was, to a degree, but I didn’t really see it going anywhere. By signing those forms, I’ve officially called my writing a job… granted it’s an unpaying one at the moment, but still a job and something I hope to earn an income from some day.
I can only dream of the day I might call it my main job. But I have officially taken a step towards that future. It’s both exciting and terrifying, all at the same time.