ARTICLES, SCRIBBLES & WORDS

the samurai loved to write.

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Simon has an absolute love of writing and with the real life experiences plus his Martial Arts training, he sure does have a lot to write about.

Here you will find words of hope among seemingly crushing stories of adversity but they all have the same theme in minds; 

 

        * ADVERSITY * COURAGE * HOPE * REDEMPTION * SALVATION *

As much as it sounds a cliche, Simon truly believes that if he can achieve success, battle seemingly unbeatable demons the you can too, so we will leave the rest to the articles and stories written by Simon and featured here.

You will also notice on the sidebar, among the photographs of events, books signings and award ceremonies, certain links to other articles Simon has written/been featured in, including the Huffington Post (USA), the New York Post and other worldwide media.

We hope you enjoy his words.

           
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READ MORE OF SIMON'S ARTICLES HERE. click the images to read in full.

           SHARP

         this month's featured article

Sharp is a work of fiction but loosely based on an old friend of mine and how I think he would have reacted had he come across a relative (or anybody who needed him for that matter) who wasn't capable of defending themselves.

Names have been changed but the strength of the main character's true persona hasn't, It is also written (grammar included) in how I think the owner of Sharp would have had his internal dialouge.

It is also featured in the book British Warrior but you can read it by clicking the icon below.

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          NO DOUBT

          FACING A GUNMAN

In this life of mine I have faced many fears, been put through many tests. Facing one of Liverpool's top gunmen ranks about one of the most memorable of all. And yes, it is a true story.

Click the gunman icon to read in full.

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And of course it has always been there. “Was he or wasn’t he? Was I or wasn’t I?” Yes, through every “Sam go and get me that, Sam go and get me this, Sam bring it here now,” and “Sam take it away again.” The untold truth has always been there.

The years pass, the contempt turns to dislike, the dislike grows to hate. Sometimes I think it might work both ways, a two-way street.

“Sam, why do you have to walk that way? Sam stop slouching, you are an embarrassment,” and “Sam, get out of the room, Sam, be somewhere else.”

The physical doesn’t happen overnight, but it doesn’t take a century to arrive either. A mother’s blame as she sees husband do his thing. Her culpability made complete by her lack of action as the first crack hits my jaw. Brother and sister watching on.

“Sam, how dare you? Sam, why did you? Sam, why don’t you? Sam, get out of my sight,” and I do, but as I exit the stage, I hear my mother’s guilt; “You shouldn’t have hit him in the face.”

Adulthood arrives but the child like guilt, shame, rage and even hatred, yes hatred remains. Like I said, a two-way street, but mine is covered in confusion. What exactly has Sam done wrong? But it continues;

“Sam, you are to take this job, no Sam I don‘t give a fuck if you don’t like it, I certainly don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to do it and I definitely don’t give a fuck if it is illegal. Sam, just do it Sam.” The pattern repeats itself; often.

Brother and sister no longer watch on, better for them they turn their eyes, eyes covered in rose-coloured glasses; “Yeah, do as you are told Sam.” Mother joins in the turning of the other cheek because she lives in the ignorance too. It is easier that way.

And of course, Sam eventually has enough. I have had enough and push back.I do something for me for a change and that does not go down well, but Sam has no more fucks to give and so I move on.

Time passes. Lots of it and the word is sent to me that my mother will witness no more almost criminal treatment, for she has passed. And not long after that the letter arrives. I guess I kind of expected it.

“Sam, I was never your real father,” it says, written in a font I don’t really care for. It is written with malice, it is written in pure hate. “Not in love, not in parenthood, and certainly not biologically. No Sam, you never even met your real pa, not sure he even knows you exist. Yours faithfully, the man in the mask all these years.” He stops short of co-signing it, ‘the bully.’

Again, like I said I have no more fucks to give, except the one that needs sharing.

Sam needs his siblings to know he isn’t one of them and so, despite the frostiness I expect, I arrive at the house and share the news. One looks delighted and the other looks denied.

I don’t expect any love lost, but neither do I expect the attack that happens. Brother throws fists; he isn’t very good at it and is easily restrained, easiest thing I’ve ever have to do.

“You are a liar Sam,” he screams though his tears. “You are such a liar.” I shrug as I hear the footsteps behind me, they shuffle into the room now, old with guilt, old with shame, old with age, but only one of these three apply and it is the last one. For the first two he too has no fucks to give.

“Telling them more bullshit are you Sam? Spreading your filth again,” he asks but can’t quite make eye contact. I move, Sam moves so the man is in his line of sight and this time the man has nowhere else to look. I force him to look me in the eye. It is the least I owe myself.

“No, just the truth,” I say and the look on his face tells it all and so I nod. “Yep, just Sam telling the truth.”

And there is indeed truth, but I am beyond that, I am better than it. I stand and turn to leave but before I do I take one last look at the wreckage Sam’s dad has created. Three wasted, bitter lives in shells of denial. Sam has no more fucks to give. Sam moves on to better days.

Simon and Julie at Waterstones book signings.

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BUY SIMON'S AWARD

WINNING BOOKS HERE

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After hearing of a friend's struggle with fear, nerves and trepidation at trying to reach his goals, I was reminded of my own struggle and a very valuable lesson I learnt; we never know what is around the corner for us should we just try that little harder to beat our fears and master our chances

Snowing is a true stroy of courage lost and courage found.

Click the image above to read in full for free.

wigwam

"One of my Martial Art students recently read British Warrior and approach me after class some time ago. With absolute respect he asked me "How on earth are you still alive?" Good question.

My traumas have been many and to this day, I am plagued with almost nightly nightmares and terrors. I sometime wake up screaming and drenched in sweat, Julie rubbing my back as I recall to her that the people who haunted my past still visit me today. It has been suggested I have PTSD and I wouldn't argue with that.

However life has also been incredibly kind to me so I try and look at the horrors as tests to see if I deserve my beautiful rewards.

Wigwam was just one of those tests." Simon.

An Apology and Forgiveness

In this true and poignant article, simon talks about he came face to face with his biggest tormentor as a youth and how, as both adults they talked about their past.

Click the image to read

Where There Is Courage There Is Hope

Simon has found that once he gained courage his fears shrank and he was able to achieves many goals. It is our hope this article will help you

My Journey

Every goal, every inspiration always follows the path of a journey. In this blast from the past Simon takes you on his own personal journey.

dipping my toes

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From Frightened Kid to Full Contact Fighter

As I enter my fortieth year in Martial Arts & Combat, it is nice to re-visit some old battles that made their way into articles.

I was a frightened kid, scared of my own shadow but I knew I wanted to be a fighter, but how did I go about it? It wasn't easy but from the kid on the sidelines to an Animal Day veteran, Dipping My Toes In The Water was the way forward. Read on and if the need grabs you, sink you own toes in too.

Click the image below to read in full.