We’re back and we’re wondering why all these robed figures around us are chanting the name of Cthulhu? Don’t they know that Lovecraft made him up? What do they expect to get out of this? Can they really call upon his power? And, if so, how can we get in on this sweet racket?

Main Topic: The Occult and Lovecraft

This is the second part of our look into the relationship between Lovecraft’s work and real occult practices. Last episode, we looked into how Lovecraft drew upon his superficial knowledge of the occult to add verisimilitude to his stories. This time, we’re exploring something far weirder: occultists who have incorporated Lovecraft’s work into their own practices.

That’s one weird-looking D20.

Once again, Mike Mason joins us on our journey into mystery. His knowledge as line editor for Call of Cthulhu comes in especially handy when we delve into the gaming aspects of our topic. Which Call of Cthulhu scenarios draw upon occult traditions? What is the difference between the Occult and Cthulhu Mythos skills? How might we use the occult in our own games? And why is Mike chanting and pulling out that obsidian dagger?

Links

Things we discuss in this episode include:

Cthulhu Mythos Occultism

The Occult in Call of Cthulhu

Other Stuff

Songs

We sing to our old friend Amelia Faulkner in this episode, thanking her for joining our legion of Patreon backers. Amelia is a gifted and prolific author of urban fantasy and paranormal romance. You can find more about her work on her website or Amazon page.

Reviews

We also share a lovely new Apple Podcasts review from listener Test Subject 86b1. If this inspires you to write a review of your own, whether on iTunes or anywhere else you might find podcasts, we would be delighted!

We’re back and we’re casting protective circles around our microphones, burning incense that smells like Cthulhu’s armpits and waggling our wands for all they’re worth. No matter how fevered our incantations, however, the songs always seem to break free. Some magic is too foul to be contained.

Main Topic: Lovecraft and the Occult

This is the first of a pair of episodes looking into the relationship between HP Lovecraft and the occult. The focus this time is on how much (or little) Lovecraft drew upon real occult beliefs and practices. In particular, we’ll focus on the Western occult tradition and its manifestations in the 19th and 20th centuries. Next time, we’ll explore how the relationship has been reciprocated. Things are going to get weird.

Joining us in this exploration is Mike Mason. As well as being line editor for Call of Cthulhu, Mike has a keen interest in the occult and offers some personal insights. You don’t think that Call of Cthulhu has won all those ENnie awards without help from the unseen masters, do you?

Links

Things we mention in this episode include:

News

Necronomicon

The Good Friends will be flying out to Providence for Necronomicon 2019 in just two short weeks. We hope to see many of you there. Please say hi if you spot us in the wild. Mike and a number of other folks from Chaosium will also be attending the convention, operating a stall overflowing with wonders.

Scott on Fictoplasm

A little overdue, but we finally mention that Scott was a guest on Ralph Lovegrove’s excellent Fictoplasm podcast. Ralph and Scott discussed what our gaming lives might be like if Robert W Chambers had been the main figure of twentieth-century horror fiction rather than Lovecraft. This makes a perfect companion piece to our own recent discussions about The King in Yellow.

Other Stuff

Songs

Like the darkest rites of demonology, no episode of The Good Friends is complete without a good chant. We offer two such evocations in this episode, summoning all our gratitude and unleashing it upon new Patreon backers.

Review

We also share a lovely new Apple Podcasts review from listener Pad_in_Purgatory. If this inspires you to write a review of your own, whether on iTunes or anywhere else you might find podcasts, we would be delighted!

We’re back and we’re strapping some of our favourite RPGs to the dissection table and cutting deep into them to understand why they appeal so much. You always hurt the ones you love. And who knew that a gamebook could scream like that? Matt may be cruel to his dice sometimes but not even he goes this far.

Main Topic: Top 3 RPG Mechanics

It has been far too long since we last did a Top 3 episode. They were a mainstay of the podcast in our early days but the format slipped quietly out of use. It felt like time to dig it out of storage and check that it still fits.

Just like a favourite old coat…

We each choose three of our favourite individual game mechanics from some very different RPGs, explaining how they work and why they appeal to us so. There is a fair bit of variety, taking in games published between the early ’80s and the present day. Some may give you ideas for things you can borrow for your own games. RPG designers are always feeding on what has gone before like a pack of dice-wielding ghouls.

Our Choices

Look away now if you don’t want to know our choices before listening to the episode.

Paul

Scott

Matt

Other Links

Some other things we mention in the episode include:

News

The Blasphemous Tome 4 1/2

Issue 4 1/2 of The Blasphemous Tome is so close that we can taste it. Either that or the charnel booty we had for lunch is repeating. Once we get the final approval from our good friends at Chaosium, PDF copies will be winging their way across the electronic ghoul winds to all our backers.

In case you’ve missed our earlier announcements, The Blasphemous Tome is the fanzine we produce for our wonderful Patreon backers. Issue 4 1/2 is an experiment in producing an interim electronic issue between our normal print releases. It contains brand new gaming material for Call of Cthulhu, including a scenario from Paul, and a range of weird fiction, artwork and odd little articles to tickle your synapses. To ensure you receive your copy, simply back us by the end of July.

Other Stuff

Reviews

We share a lovely new review from Martin Gode on Apple Podcasts. If this awakens a desire to write a review of your own, we heartily encourage you to embrace this. Said review does not have to be on Apple Podcasts — in fact, we would love to see more reviews elsewhere. As long as your podcast source is accessible to human technology, it’s all good. And even then, we could do with some more mi-go listeners.

160: Making Call of Cthulhu scary

We’re back and we’re hiding under the bed. Maybe this dark, twisted shape that’s creeping around the house won’t find us here. The anticipation is making us quake in terror. Not knowing what the hell it is definitely doesn’t help. How did we end up in this state? And, more importantly, how can we make other people feel like this?

Main topic: Making Call of Cthulhu Scary

This episode is our look at what makes a game of Call of Cthulhu scary. We focus on Call of Cthulhu because that’s what we do, but the elements we discuss could apply to any horror game. Fear is a pretty universal thing.

When we say that fear is universal, we mean that there are some main strands of fear that run through us all. The specifics and triggers may be different, but there are many commonalities. Inspired by this article in Psychology Today, we go through some of these basic fears, looking at how they might come into play.

Not every attempt to be scary works.

Additionally, we offer some tips about the techniques we use and some insights into if and how we’ve been scared by games. Is scaring players possible or even desirable? Are there right ways and wrong ways to make people feel uncomfortable at the gaming table? Where does that line lie?

Links

Other things we mention in this episode include:

News

Necronomicon 2019

The Good Friends are gearing up to go to Necronomicon 2019 in Providence next month. We will be pretty busy while we’re there, but we hope to meet as many of you as possible. Please say hi if you spot us in the wild. At least two of us don’t bite. Those are pretty good odds.

The Blasphemous Tome 4.5

We have finished the writing and editing of the special interim edition of The Blasphemous Tome. Matt is poised to lay the issue out as soon as we have the last two pieces of artwork. At present, we expect to get the Tome to backers by the middle of this month (July 2019).

The Blasphemous Tome is the fanzine we produce exclusively for Patreon backers of The Good Friends of Jackson Elias. It is normally a print publication, but this special extra is a PDF. Everyone backing us by the end of July will receive a copy. See our recent post for more details.

Burning Luck Reviews

Good friend of the Good Friends, Max Mahaffa, has started up a review page on Facebook, titled Burning Luck Reviews. Check out his review of the Call of Cthulhu Starter Set, with more to follow.

Other Stuff

Songs

Few fears are more universal than those evoked by our singing. We have such a bout of terror to share with you this episode, offered in praise of a new Patreon backer. Any exhortation not to have nightmares would be pointless. Tremble away!

Merchandise

We keep forgetting to mention that we have some Good Friends merchandise available. If you would like a T-shirt that tells the world that you are a good friend of Jackson Elias or a mug that warns of the danger of Attract Fish, check out our Redbubble store!

Reviews

We share another lovely new review of the podcast this episode. Such kind words sustain us and, more importantly, help others find the podcast. We are profoundly grateful for every review we receive. If you write a review of your own on Apple Podcasts or wherever you download our episodes, we would be delighted to hear about it.

Wounds: Six Stories From the Border of Hell by Nathan Ballingrud. Published 2019 by Saga Press. Reviewed by Scott Dorward.

Wounds cover

What Came Before

Nathan Ballingrud’s first book, North American Lake Monsters, is my favourite short story collection of recent years. If you and I have spoken or interacted online, or if you’ve delivered pizza to my house, I’ve probably told you at length about its poignant tales of damaged people struggling with the intrusion of the unnatural into their lives. North American Lake Monsters won the Shirley Jackson Award for Best Single-Author Collection in 2013 and Hulu have recently commissioned a television series based upon it. It is a hell of a book to live up to.

You can find a full review of North American Lake Monsters in issue three of The Blasphemous Tome, should you happen to have a copy lying around. Alternatively, you can get a short insight into the collection by listening to the episode we released about Ballingrud’s story, “Wild Acre”.

In the six years since North American Lake Monsters, Ballingrud’s focus has shifted. The stories in Wounds also pack a flurry of emotional punches, but they largely do so in a more playful manner. Where Ballingrud’s earlier stories were rooted in the horrors of real life, most of those in Wounds abound with weirdness and vivid imagination. This is a fun collection — not a description I’d readily offer for North American Lake Monsters, no matter how much I love it.

Overview

Wounds is comprised of four short stories/novelettes and two substantial novellas. One of the novellas — “The Visible Filth” — was previously published as a standalone book by This is Horror in 2015 and has been revised for this collection. Between them, the novellas take up the bulk of the book. “The Butcher’s Table” is a shade under 100 pages, making it the longest piece of Ballingrud’s work currently in print. It is also the only story original to this collection.

One of the elements that make Wounds special is the sometimes understated connections between the stories. With the possible exception of “The Atlas of Hell” and “The Butcher’s Table”, there is not a direct narrative connection running through them. Instead, Ballingrud reuses names of places and sects, laying the groundwork for an implied mythology. This is somewhat reminiscent of Lovecraft’s approach, although more subtle.

A Mythology of Hell

The mythology that Ballingrud is weaving is largely that of Hell. While Hell does not feature directly in every story, the whiff of sulphur permeates them all. What makes all this special is that the presentation of the infernal owes less to classical depictions than to the awesome power of Ballingrud’s imagination. His Hell is uncanny and utterly inhuman, the mere sight of it capable of driving human minds to madness. When it touches upon our world, it is a corrupting and transformative presence. The power and knowledge it offers are dangerous to more than one’s immortal soul. It is home to demons that sculpt human flesh into vast works of art and places with unsettlingly evocative names, such as the Love Mills. This is not a Hell any of us have seen before and it is all the more unsettling for this.

I hope that Ballingrud revisits his vision of Hell in future stories. Its sheer bloody weirdness makes it one of the more memorable creations in modern horror.

The Stories

Let’s delve into the stories themselves. While I shall avoid major spoilers, there will be some plot details by necessity. Go and read the book now if you’re spoiler-averse and already sold on it. Otherwise, here we go…

The Atlas of Hell

A number of critics have compared Wounds to Clive Barker’s early work — particularly The Books of Blood and The Hellbound Heart — and I largely agree. They offer a similar cocktail of blood and imagination, although Ballingrud’s touch is defter, relying a little less on shocks while still delivering them aplenty.

“The Atlas of Hell” is perhaps where this comparison is most apt. The mix of hard-boiled adventure and occult horror is reminiscent of Barker’s Harry D’Amour stories, although morally murkier. The protagonist of this story, Jack Oleander, is no hero. The owner of a seedy bookshop in New Orleans, Oleander is well-connected in the occult underworld of his city. As well as providing him with a living, this also makes him a target.

In classic noir fashion, Oleander is strong-armed by a local gangster into locating and obtaining the titular atlas. This leads him deep into the bayou, travelling through swampland that has been touched by Hell, and into ever-increasing danger.

While the plot of “The Atlas of Hell” is relatively simple, it is brought to life by horrific detail. The touches of Hell we encounter are nightmarish and gruesome, and the nature of the atlas itself will haunt the reader long after. This is a strong opening story and one that sets the tone for the collection perfectly.

As an aside, “The Atlas of Hell” was originally supposed to lend its name to this collection. This was changed late on, to tie into the name of the film adaptation of “The Visible Filth”. While Wounds is a perfectly fine title, and using it was a sound commercial decision, it is nowhere near as evocative as The Atlas of Hell. In a few years, after the dust has settled on the film, it would be lovely to see this book reissued under its original name.

The Diabolist

“The Diabolist” is an odd, deceptively gentle story that unfolds into something truly disturbing. Unlike most of the rest of the book, there is little gore here, but that does not mean that the story is not horrific.

Our narrator is an imp, summoned from the Love Mills of Hell by a recently deceased diabolist. Perplexingly at first, the imp speaks of itself in the first-person plural, telling us of its imprisonment in the magical workshop of the late sorcerer and its awkward attempts to forge a bond with his uninterested daughter.

While there is plenty to love about “The Diabolist”, it is perhaps the slightest story in the collection; it is certainly the shortest. Clever tricks with narration and the richness of unsettling detail keep it from being ordinary, and it builds to a satisfying conclusion, but it is still overshadowed by the other pieces.

Skullpocket

“Oh, how I would love to go to a place made only for screams.”

In a collection packed with variety, “Skullpocket” still manages to stand out. This is Ballingrud at his most playful, telling a tale of a strange little town near Chesapeake Bay, home to a carnival run by ghouls.

This is the story of Jonathan Wormcake, the Gentleman Corpse of Hob’s Landing, and his part in the history of the Skullpocket Fair. It introduces a unique take on ghouls and their lifecycle, both humanising them and making them utterly alien. And, if that weren’t enough, the story is filled with other monsters and a most repellent charnel god.

The horror in “Skullpocket” shifts tone drastically throughout the story, keeping the reader off-balance but never feeling like it has lost its way. At times it is whimsical, as a floating head in a jar plays storyteller to a group of enraptured children. Other times, it is sad and beautiful, as we peek inside a most unusual freak show. And there are moments of more gruesome nastiness dotted throughout, such as the origin of the name “Skullpocket”. This is a story filled with macabre delights and a wicked sense of fun.

While there is no explicit connection to the infernal elements of the other stories, a brief mention of Hob’s Landing in “The Diabolist” ties “Skullpocket” into the larger continuity of Wounds.

“Skullpocket” is the first instalment in a planned series of stories detailing the history of Hob’s Landing. If the others live up to the dark wonders on offer here, this will probably become my favourite strand of Ballingrud’s work.

If you would like to sample this story before splashing out any money on Wounds, “Skullpocket” is readily available online, both to read and listen to.

The Maw

Hell has burst forth into the mortal world, transforming a section of an unnamed American city. The area it has consumed, now known as Hollow City, has been sealed off for public safety. Demons walk the streets, mutilating any humans they catch in the most nightmarish of ways.

People, however, are capable of adapting to almost any situation, sometimes even profiting from them. Mix has built a new career for herself, sneaking into Hollow City to retrieve lost people or items. When she is hired by an old man named Carlos for a rescue mission, the two of them stumble upon the demons’ true purpose on Earth.

“The Maw” is probably the most viscerally nasty story in this collection. It is also the most uplifting. Perhaps even more oddly, it turns bloodshed and mutilation into something beautiful. While this is a short piece, with a tight focus, the glimpses of Hell it offers will linger in the reader’s mind long after the book has been safely hidden away on a shelf.

The Visible Filth

The Visible Filth

Will is a bartender at a New Orleans establishment that caters to seedy regulars, slumming college kids and endless waves of cockroaches. After a bloody fight in the bar, Will finds a mobile phone dropped by one of the brawlers. Before he gets around to finding the owner, the phone starts receiving messages that lead Will and those around him deep into nightmare.

“The Visible Filth” is a grimy story, both in the grubby, sweat-sodden, cockroach infested world it presents but also in the inner world of the characters. Will is not a good or happy person even before demonic forces enter his life, and his self-centredness and lack of empathy make tragedy inevitable.

At various points in Wounds, Ballingrud’s vision of Hell borders on Lovecraftian horror. This is especially true in “The Visible Filth”. The cult that target Will and his girlfriend Carrie feel more like something from the Cthulhu Mythos than simple Satanists. And the forces they deal with are not just morally corrosive but maddening in a way we might associate with cosmic horror.

But the horror in “The Visible Filth” is not only cosmic or infernal. The sadism, gore and pure cruelty here are as upsetting as anything I have encountered in horror fiction. Ballingrud hints at many of these elements, tantalising us with scant details, but when he wants to show us something nauseating, he does not hold back. This is a deeply unpleasant story.

“The Visible Filth” is a novella and Ballingrud gives the story plenty of space to grow. Some apparent digressions — such as Will’s infidelity — work not only to add to the sense of moral degradation but also to hasten his isolation from the support structures of normal human life. Everything about this story drives us deeper into darkness, even when it is not immediately obvious how. And the ending, when it arrives, is both cruelly abrupt and terrifyingly weird.

Out of all the stories in this collection, “The Visible Filth” most resembles Ballingrud’s earlier work. While it touches upon his burgeoning mythology of Hell, it is also rooted in the kinds of everyday problems that grounded the stories in North American Lake Monsters. It feels almost like a transitional stage between the two books.

At the time of writing, the film adaptation of “The Visible Filth” — named Wounds and thus giving this collection its title — has only been shown at festivals. It is slated for release in 2019, so we shouldn’t have long to wait. Apparently, Babak Anvari (director of the exceptional Under the Shadow) has made a faithful adaptation, and the shocking imagery has upset some critics, as has the near-hallucinatory storytelling. Personally, I can’t wait to see what these horrors will look like splattered all over the screen.

The Butcher’s Table

Taking up over a third of the page count, “The Butcher’s Table” is this collection’s big beast. It is also a difficult story to sum up simply. This is a heady mixture of elements — satanic horror, romance, intrigue, adventure and, of course, pirates. There is something for everyone here.

The Butcher’s Table of the title is a pirate ship, chartered by a gentlemanly satanic cult called the Candlelight Society to pay a visit to the shores of Hell for a special feast. Of course, no such journey could be a simple one and the means of travel lead to their own terrors and complications.

These complications multiply as the different factions involved in the journey pursue their own agendas. The cannibal priests of the Buried Church may share similar satanic beliefs to the Candlelight Society, but their methods and appetites are far less genteel. Distrust metastasises into bickering and violence at all the worst possible moments. All of this would be dangerous enough if everyone was exactly who they said they were and the ship wasn’t being pursued by monstrous forces.

Once again, Ballingrud presents us with depictions of Hell that are compelling, nightmarish and unique. The climax of this story is a glorious descent into madness and bloodshed, set against a wonderfully bizarre backdrop. And, neatly, one particular atrocity sets up the events of “The Atlas of Hell”, looping us back around to the beginning of the book. At times, Wounds feels like a wet jigsaw puzzle made up of a thousand wriggling pieces.

At its dark, charnel heart, “The Butcher’s Table” is the kind of story I love best. Its narrative is driven by hidden motivations, betrayals and nasty surprises. The unpleasantness of its characters and their actions only makes them all the more compelling. This is a thoroughly satisfying romp into terror.

Final Thoughts

As I mentioned at the outset, Wounds is a very different book than North American Lake Monsters. I can easily imagine a reader falling in love with one of them and struggling with the other. Wounds is probably the more accessible of the two — while its horrors don’t feel as personal, they are glorious eruptions of blood and imagination. And while many of the elements I love about North American Lake Monsters are absent here, or maybe only present in “The Visible Filth”, I never found myself missing them.

There is not a weak story in this collection. Some stand out more than others — “Skullpocket” is probably my favourite, but it is a close-run race. The variety of tone and sheer bloody fun of it all means Wounds is a joy to read, even when it is making you squirm and wince with discomfort.