Taxing Times

The deadline for filing a self-assessment tax return online is 31st January, as all self-employed people know. There are those of you (and I’m not judging; good for you!) who file theirs on 6^th April and bask in a warm glow of satisfaction for the rest of the year while those of us (me) who leave everything to the last minute have the blasted thing hanging over us like some kind of snarling, bat-winged night creature.

Sure enough, I spent all of last Saturday doing my self-assessment. Bent over my spreadsheet, I vowed never to leave it this late again. This time last year, I said, “Next year, I will do my tax return in April.” I meant it when I said it back then. I mean it every time.

This being a blog about the writing process, you might be wondering where I’m going with this. Fear not, dear reader. As I clicked through the endless questions apparently written by a cave-dwelling accountant, I came across a section which I’ve noticed before but not thought of applying to myself. I am a creator of literary or artistic works which should mean I can take advantage of something calling itself yearly averaging. I read it out loud. I didn’t get it. Frowning and with my glasses slipping to the end of my nose, I read it again in a slightly louder voice. My husband came in with a cup of tea. I tried it out on him. He didn’t understand it either.

Yet more information came to light. By now, face contorted and lip curled into a snarl, I was beginning to resemble Bernard trying to do his tax return in Episode One Series One of Black Books (click here to enjoy it https://www.facebook.com/Channel4/videos/971621189639234/?v=971621189639234). It seemed that if I were a diver, I could claim yearly averaging. Why a diver? Is it because they spend so much time under water? If I took up scuba diving, would I too benefit from tax breaks? I’m not a strong swimmer and I hate getting my face wet, so it didn’t seem likely. 

The language used in the mysterious communications from HMRC must have been written by an actual person, with a life outside its dusty precincts. Someone else must have checked it. But what if they didn’t? What if there is some kind of mischievous word goblin haunting the echoing corridors of HMRC, every year inserting a new bonkers paragraph into the form?

Words and phrases that I can’t ever imagine using kept popping up. Post-cessation, anyone? While we’re at it, does anyone fancy a bit of disguised renumeration? Better yet, amount of non-PAYE disguised remuneration employment income. What the heck does that mean?

One of the comments I often get when I publish my blogs (and please, do make comments if you are so inclined. They are the crumbs of encouragement we self-employed creators of literary or artistic works live for) is that reading them is like listening to me speak. This is a good thing. Who speaks the way the HMRC write?

It’s been a long week. I’m tired. It’s January. I spent too many hours doing my tax return that I’ll never get back. I should probably stop now as I am starting to sound a touch bitter and twisted. As I write, a strong winter sun is shining, some hardy feathered friends outside are twittering and the camellia bush is in bud. There is hope. Spring isn’t that far away. And in only 9 weeks, I’ll be doing this all over again. If I keep my promise to myself.

Watch this space.

Images by Pixabay