This Whisper Of Cobwebs…

Hello Crackers, my friends and Archery fans, are you all good? I hope so, I truly do, and I have some good news for myself—yes I do—as I have managed to book my place at the national champs in Dunbrody,…...

Hello Crackers, my friends and Archery fans, are you all good? I hope so, I truly do, and I have some good news for myself—yes I do—as I have managed to book my place at the national champs in Dunbrody,…...

strange heat it was, the summer of 1399. The kind of heat that presses down on the land and makes the air thick with waiting. You could feel it in the quiet of the fields and the low murmur of…...

V It was the same horse that had thrown Evander from its saddle not long ago. But that hardly mattered to him as he spurred it on, past the dead splayed across the battlefield, after the rider. He didn’t need…

Day 2 I It had been too long a night. For General Casey Aiza his restlessness was now searing into something more tangible, a solid force he could finally apply. Still, it was bittersweet in a way. Since he was…

It is now summer, which in Ireland means the weather likes to behave in more of a bipolar manner. Summer in Ireland is different from the other two seasons – I’m convinced we don’t really get Spring, just a mildish…

A meditation on hurt, ritual, and the intimate violence of archery “Then the English archers stept forth one pace and let fly their arrows so wholly [together] and so thick, that it seemed snow. When the Genoways felt the arrows…...

“You walk and you walk and you carry what you can and you leave the rest behind.” It stays with you, that line, doesn’t it? Like the feel of a worn stone in your pocket, or the ache in your…...

This is an updated version of an article I published a few years ago, about how badly the Olympics and World Archery need to diversify the representation of shooting styles. Given the inclusion of compound, I felt it was appropriate to not only republish it but update it too.

IV “I always wanted to do a landscape of the Mayne Lighthouse,” Ebrill said, relief in her voice as they clattered down the steps of the lighthouse’s base into the refreshingly cool, salty air. Evander enjoyed the taste and smell…

Introduction – who we are… We are a dedicated community built on shared passion, friendly competition, and a genuine love for the art of archery – Archers of Ennis isn’t just a place to hone our skills. It’s become the…

Well archers, readers, today we embark on a journey of what if… It’s a heretical endeavour, filled with blasphemy and a provocation calculated—yes, calculated—to infuriate you. This is not a careless insult nor a drunken rant penned between ends. No,…...

There are mornings when the world feels like a screen that forgot to sleep—flickering, expectant, always asking. In such light, where every silence must be earned and every stillness risks interruption, the soul reaches for older shapes. Not solutions. Not…...

The essay that follows—perhaps a touch long for an online piece—is, in truth, a chapter from The Arrow Knows No Master, a book I’ve been quietly shaping since February of last year. It’s composed of individual essays—mostly reflective, occasionally philosophical—on…

I came across him not in a book, but in a footnote misquoted in the margin of another. It was a binding so cracked it seemed to wheeze when opened, part of a bundle I’d been lent by a Flemish…...

As the fictious, famed Chaos Theorist and open shirt enthusiast, Dr Ian Malcom, once said, “Hang on, this is going to be bad.” 3D Archery is not like Field Archery, and very far removed from Target Archery. Each of the…

Aeker Murdock had been invited to a major archery event held in the Kingdom of Xellcarr. As the archery guild’s Master of Crows, he was often called upon to guest inspect private, or national, competitions. His title, a hangover from…

Making Wooden Arrows – A Master’s Guide By John Potter 2020 Edition/90 pages I believe the making of wooden arrows, and their pairing to the archer and the bow as one of the truest skills in archery. And sadly, one…

The beginning of a war, the arrows of one nation against the griffin worshiping ideology of another nation.
Following on from the prologue published last month, Evander Penrose must endure against the surrealist nature of this conflict and build a defence to repel vast odds.

They go blind, not suddenly, not dramatically, but like stone crumbling beneath ivy. A slow erosion hidden under the costume of stillness. Archers — who speak so often of form and silence, of the sacred breath before release — rarely…...

There’s a kind of hush in the troughlands of Fiorbhia Farm when the dew clings still to the grass, before the sun decides if it’ll bake or bless the day. And there I stood, half a ghost, half a child…...