By Dr. Gregory A. Thomas

Author of The Big Beautiful Breakdown: How One Bill Changed Everything

They called it “beautiful.”

They said it was “for the people.”

They promised it would fix everything from inflation to immigration.

But let me tell you the truth—straight, no chaser:

The One Big Beautiful Bill wasn’t a victory for America. It was a power play. And we were the ones left holding the tab.

Behind the Headlines: A Bill Dressed in Red, White, and Deception

When the cameras were rolling and the votes were cast, the rhetoric was rich:

“Historic tax relief” “Common-sense reform” “Restoring American greatness”

But buried in those 2,000 pages was a policy package that quietly dismantled key safety nets, shuffled billions to corporations, and rewrote the rules of the economy in favor of the few—all while the American taxpayer smiled, clapped, and signed the check.

I wrote The Big Beautiful Breakdown because I’ve been on both sides of the political line.

As a mayor, I governed with principle. As an economist, I see through spin.

And as a Texan, I call it like it is.

What the Bill Actually Did

Let’s not sugarcoat it:

It cut funding for renters, students, and working-class parents. It slashed oversight on AI and surveillance tech. It handed permanent tax advantages to multinational corporations while tossing symbolic crumbs to everyday folks.

And worst of all?

It did it all while claiming to be for the people.

The Real Cost of Bad Policy

Policy isn’t abstract. It’s not a game of spreadsheets and press releases.

When Congress makes a move, real people feel it:

The single mother denied food stamps because of new work-reporting red tape. The veteran who loses Medicaid coverage because of a paperwork glitch. The small-town hospital closing its doors because funding got yanked for defense contracts and border walls.

That’s not governing. That’s gutting.

Why I Wrote This Book

The Big Beautiful Breakdown isn’t just a policy analysis—it’s a wake-up call.

It’s for every American who knows something’s broken but can’t quite name the cause.

It’s for the voter who’s tired of being pandered to while getting played.

It’s for the everyday leader—at home, in business, or in office—who still believes facts matter more than fanfare.

We don’t need more slogans.

We need accountability.

This Is Bigger Than a Bill

This is about who we are as a country.

Do we reward truth-tellers or headline-makers?

Do we govern for working families or political donors?

Do we fight for the people who elected us—or the ones who funded us?

This isn’t a left-versus-right thing.

It’s a right-versus-wrong thing.

The Big Beautiful Breakdown

 is available now.

Own the truth. Know the facts. Then decide where you stand.

[Order Your Copy Today →]

Let me ask you something real:

Who are you when no one’s watching?

When the lights go off, the crowd goes home, and the applause fades into silence—what’s left?

Too many of us are living for approval, performing for validation, and trying to outshine pain with applause. But here’s the thing: Applause doesn’t heal brokenness. It masks it. Temporarily.

I’ve been cheered by thousands and betrayed by a few. I’ve seen power turn friends into ghosts. I’ve stood behind podiums and sat behind bars. And through it all, I learned a truth that most people run from: Your identity can’t be built on admiration—it must be rooted in authenticity.

This world will clap for you on Monday and crucify you on Friday. One minute you’re the hero, the next you’re the villain in someone else’s version of your story. If your confidence rises and falls with opinions, you’ll never find peace—just pressure.

So here’s the real talk:

Stop renting your self-worth from people who don’t pay your bills, don’t fight your battles, and wouldn’t visit your grave.

Your worth is not in your title.

It’s not in your Instagram following.

It’s not in the echo of claps or the heat of criticism.

Your worth was woven into your soul by God Himself. And that’s the kind of worth that doesn’t expire when the hype dies down.

Let the crowd walk. Let the stage empty. Let the noise hush.

And when it does… show up anyway.

Not for applause.

Not for attention.

But for purpose.

I’ll leave you with this:

“Be faithful in obscurity, and God will trust you with visibility.”

— Big Tex

Now go live like you mean it. No mask. No filter. Just you—the real you.

Family in Fiction: How Real Lives Shaped The Mayor

When I began writing The Mayor: A Big Tex Novel, I wasn’t just building a fictional world—I was drawing from the roots of my own. Though the plot is fictional, the people within it were shaped by real-life voices, temperaments, and lived experiences. That connection brought authenticity and emotional depth to every scene.

Gregory “Big Tex” Thomas, the young and principled Mayor of Dallas, is a reflection of many admirable qualities I’ve witnessed in the leaders around me—family, mentors, and peers. His sense of duty, moral conflict, and private sacrifices echo the emotional complexity of real leadership, and writing his journey allowed me to reflect on my own growth and the burden of expectations.

Keisha, Corrina, Brandon, Miss Rutha, aka Granny and so many others in the novel are not characters I pulled from the air—they were drawn from the essence of people I know and love. Their personalities, values, strengths, and even their flaws were inspired by real friends and family who have shaped my life in powerful, sometimes quiet, ways.

Brandon Thomas, Greg’s brother and Chief of Staff, really Brandon Bell, is built on the foundation of brotherhood I’ve known in my own life—loyal, driven, and unshakably grounded. Writing him came naturally because I’ve been blessed with real men in my life who show up like that every day.

Miss Rutha, Greg’s grandmother, is pure heart and heritage. Her spirit, discipline, and wisdom mirror the matriarchs in my family—women whose words stayed with you long after they left the room. She wasn’t created. She was remembered.

Corrina, the Executive Assistant with a quiet strength and a complicated heart, wasn’t born out of fantasy. She was shaped by women I’ve worked alongside—brilliant, patient, ambitious women whose presence elevates a room and whose grace often goes unnoticed.

The truth is, writing from real life gave these characters soul. It made them believable—not because they were perfect, but because they were human. And for me, character development became less about constructing people from scratch, and more about honoring the people I’ve known.

What made this process so rewarding was being able to write from a place of sincerity. I didn’t have to guess how these characters would respond to love, pain, ambition, or betrayal—I’ve seen it firsthand in the people who have walked beside me through seasons of my own journey. And while the details may be fictional, the emotional truth behind them is real.

It also meant that The Mayor is more than a novel to me—it’s a tribute. A quiet thank-you to the people who shaped my worldview, who modeled integrity, who loved me into my calling. The story may entertain, but at its heart, it’s about legacy—and I owe mine to those who never asked for credit, but gave everything they had to ensure I would thrive.

So yes, the book is fictional. But the love, loyalty, and leadership on those pages? That’s as real as it gets.

To my family and friends—you are the heartbeat of this book. Thank you for giving me the kind of character inspiration that no imagination could ever invent.