I’m looking at my old Call of Cthulhu box set from 1982, the one with the Gene Day artwork, the cracked corners and bindings all roughed up and stained from countless hours of flipping through pages of stats. What I am most struck by is that I owe Sandy Petersen a huge debt of gratitude.
Here’s why: as far back as 1984, I was not an H. P. Lovecraft fan. I found him old-fashioned, verbose, ridiculous. I had, in a fit of prejudgment, dismissed him as a writer I did not read. What changed that? Sandy Petersen and the role-playing game Call of Cthulhu.
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