As near as I can tell, before I joined our local practice group, archery was something the fencers
did while waiting for enough fencers to make a good melee to show up. This has the result that
most of our fencers "dabble" in archery, except for us rabid archers who "dabble" in fencing. In
order to solidify the relationship, we're trying the "tourney prizes" tack. For instance, at our
next fencing event on January 3 <insert shameless plug> A benefit for the Plattsburgh, NY
Salvation Army where we hold winter fencing practice </shameless plug>, there will be the usual
T-shirts, gear, bucklers, handmade-by-moi-parry-cloak, and a fabulous set of matched arrows (also
handmade by moi), as well as a set consisting of a brocade longbow sock, a pair of string keepers,
a spare longbow string, and a bow-hand protector, all handmade by moi. The idea being that fencers
who possess archery gear will be that much more likely to use it and thus become regular archers.
Besides, I just like to make stuff.
Oddly enough, a bow is the easiest thing to acquire out here. Every garage sale seems to have a
spiffy recurve they sold just before I got there.
If the archers stick around for feast at events, one very public prize you could award might be a
handful of arrows to the archer who lost or broke the most arrows that day. And a good gag prize
guaranteed to get people to remember your archery events might be the public awarding of something
silly but useful and highly visible like a longbow sock made to resemble Kermit the Frog, or
string keepers made to look like tribbles with eyes.
Another way I drum up interest in archery is by (for me) quietly (and I can hear those of you who
know me laughing) Making Stuff where people can see it at events. I plunk my unmistakable self
down with a pile of supplies and explain what I'm doing to anyone who wanders too close.
Cesira Blackwork della Ougley
a.k.a Cesira Ysabetta Meloria Diana Marilyn Webster da Chavallerio della Vale
a.k.a Bloody Bess Read
Archery MIT and author of the Prayers To St. Ougley
Shire of Coldwood, EK
Snow fallen on snow,
and this evening, the full moon
I'll burn the books I carry in my bag, but how can I forget the verses written in my gut?
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