Solo RPGs Aren't Lonely

I used to think solo RPGs were the gaming equivalent of eating dinner alone at a restaurant—fine if you have to, but not something you'd choose. Then I tried it.

The thing nobody tells you about solo play is that you're not actually alone. You're in conversation with something. Sometimes it's a deck of oracle cards, sometimes it's a random table, sometimes it's an AI. But there's always that moment where the game surprises you, where it says something you didn't expect, and suddenly you're not authoring a story—you're discovering one.

Here's what I mean: Last week I was running a character through a derelict space station. I had a plan. She was going to find evidence of corporate malfeasance, get out clean, and report back. Standard heist stuff. Then the game (in this case, Town Scryer) decided the station's AI had been lonely for six years and just wanted someone to talk to. My character spent three scenes having an existential conversation with a machine about what it means to be forgotten.

I didn't write that. The game did. And I was surprised by it. That's the magic.

Solo play isn't "pretending to GM for yourself." It's closer to improv with a scene partner who won't break. Or like journaling, except the journal talks back. You still make choices, you still embody characters, you still feel tension when things go wrong. You're just not coordinating four other people's schedules to do it.

And honestly? Sometimes that's better. Not because people are bad (they're great), but because the pressure is off. No one's waiting for you to describe the tavern. No one's checking their phone when your character monologues. You can pause mid-scene to grab coffee, pick it back up three days later, or just skip the boring parts.

The weird part is how much character work you end up doing. Without an audience, you stop performing your character and start being them. There's no one to impress, no jokes to land. Just you and the question: "What would they actually do here?"

Does it replace group play? No. Group play is its own thing—chaotic, social, loud, messy in the best way. But solo play isn't lesser. It's not the thing you do when you can't get a group together. It's its own experience, with its own rewards.

Mostly, it's proof that RPGs were never just about sitting around a table with friends. They're about the moment-to-moment discovery of story. And that happens whether you're at a table with five people or in your kitchen at midnight with a notebook and something that talks back.

The game doesn't care if you're alone. It just cares if you're playing.