J.D. Cunegan

I try not to let this website turn into a long screed against Donald Trump.

Not because I couldn’t. If I’m not careful, every post could be some variation of “[bleep] Trump” and “[bleep] MAGA” and I would never have to worry about repeating myself. I have, on occasion, made my opinions known – be it a 2024 postmortem, a detailed, non-political anti-Trump screed, or a defense of the word “liberal.”

But I try to keep my Substack a mostly creative space. While acknowledging that sometimes, being creative is itself a political act.

(This essay won’t just be an excuse for me to plug my Substack, I promise.)

But as America finally grasps the horrific nature of the Trump regime’s “immigration” crackdown (as in, we’re noticing now that ICE is killing white people), and roughly 70 million of us are experiencing the worst “I told you so” of our lives, even the most intentionally disengaged among us have to say something.

Even if it feels like it’s too little, too late.

It Shouldn’t Need to be Said
I don’t think I should have to condemn federal government authorities (legitimate or otherwise) committing the outright murder of American citizens in broad daylight. But considering such outrage was largely muted until the victims were white, and the fact that there are still people vocally defending said murders…

Never mind the fact that a lot of those defenders are also the same people saying we should have the right to arm ourselves in order to fight back against an oppressive federal government.

As writers, we often travel in subtlety and subtext. We thrive on finding ways to say a thing without actually saying a thing. But there are times when being blunt and upfront is not only appropriate, it’s necessary.

Renee Good should not have been murdered.

Alex Pretti should not have been murdered.

Keith Porter, Jr. should not have been murdered.

Geraldo Lunas Campos should not have been murdered.

Others have died in federal custody, and while their deaths have not been ruled a homicide, ICE’s entire lack of credibility right now when it comes to, well, everything… I could just as easily add such names as Luis Gustavo Nunez Caceres, Victor Manuel Diaz, and Parady La to the list.

Unfamiliar with those names? See what I wrote above about how we got all outraged once the victims were white.

There is no justification for murder. State-sanctioned murder is particularly gruesome, and it’s the surest sign yet that we are living in an increasingly authoritarian state. No matter what any of these people did or didn’t do, no rationale for the state taking their lives is acceptable.

If reading that bothers you to the point where you’d never consider buying my books… well, you probably weren’t going to like them, anyway.

If We Don’t Do it Now, We May Never Get To
As if murdering American citizens in broad daylight wasn’t enough, we’re now seeing this regime go after journalists. Well, the ones who refuse to tow the party line. Well, the dark-skinned ones who refuse to tow the party line.

I’d like to think we all agree that arresting journalists is bad, right? I mean, even if you’re the kind of guy who likes to blast “the liberal media” (a laughable assertion, but whatever), even you get why slapping the cuffs on a reporter is just something America doesn’t do, right?

Right?

Maybe I’m more sensitive to this than most, given my background as a reporter and how I lament what news has become in recent years. But consider this: if all the journalists are either locked up or cowed into only reporting on what the state wants known, how do we fight back? How do we even know what to fight back against?

I’m already convinced the monied elites have taken to media ownership not because they see the value in it, but because they want to control the narrative. If they own the newspapers and the TV stations, then the journalists won’t report on the things the billionaires don’t want known.

Just look at what’s become of CBS News.

I’m not typically an alarmist. I very intentionally do not spend my days scrolling on Threads or BlueSky, talking about how we’re all doomed and the sky is falling and anyone who’s not to the left of Bernie Sanders is a corporate shill at best. Because a) that’s stressful as hell, and b) it serves no purpose.

In fact, the chronically-left online that subjects all of us to purity tests and constantly complains about how no option among the Democratic Party is good enough… y’all aren’t helping. Hell, you’re making it worse. You’re as responsible for where we are today as MAGA.

But I think we’re rapidly approaching a point where if something isn’t done soon – maybe within the next calendar year – it’ll be too late. What that something is, I don’t know; one of my existential struggles is the knowledge that I’m largely helpless in this regard. I vote, I keep as informed as my sanity will allow, and I try to hold my elected officials accountable. But the “weight of the world on my shoulders” aspect of my personality will never be sated by any of that, and I take personally my inability to fix everything on my own – even as I realize how irrational that is.

This is Why I Write the Kinds of Stories I Do
Longtime fans (…all three of you) have probably noticed my writing has gotten a lot angrier and a lot more violent over the years. To the point where I now place graphic violence disclaimers in the front matter. Frankly, this is how I process the helplessness I mentioned before, and the rage that comes along with it.

I’m under no illusions that Summertime, Assassins, and Other Skullduggeries will change the world (though it might put me on a watch list, if the wrong person reads it). I know offing the wicked in my pages will have no effect on real life. At best, my readers will enjoy my work, maybe achieve a bit of emotional catharsis, and buy the next book.

Summertime was supposed to be a standalone. A beginning, middle, and end. But then the 2024 election happened, and an idea for a sequel came to me. At this rate, this might become a trilogy, if not a full-blown series.

But honestly, that’s all I’ve got. I don’t have the capacity for much else right now. Not without putting my health at risk (and considering my doctor’s been on me for the last three years about my stress…).

Right now, my art is my resistance.

Is that enough? Probably not. And I struggle with that. I’ve been asking myself quite a bit these last several months what the point of it all is, knowing full well my silly little stories aren’t going to matter much in the grand scheme of things.

But art does matter. Especially right now. The powerful wouldn’t be trying to destroy it otherwise.

The book bans? The constant funding battles libraries and places like them face seemingly every year? What’s become of such institutions as the Kennedy Center? That’s all the proof you need that art matters.

The regime would ignore it if it didn’t.

The written word is my weapon. It’s what I wield in facing off against an unjust world I am powerless to change. Sometimes, that means creating heroes who mete out punishment society has deemed too difficult or inconvenient to hand out through “the correct” means. Sometimes, it’s something as simple as “Hey, this is wrong.”

There’s a lot wrong right now. More than I can list in one blog post. And while it has, in one way or another, become fodder for my fiction writing, I would be remiss if I didn’t stop every once in a while and simply remarked on how fucked up it all is.

Even if that acknowledgment doesn’t actually do anything.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to write another chapter, then go about finding a therapist…

About J.D. Cunegan
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books and art, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV.

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