Gamebooks, Journaling Games, and Open-Ended Solo RPGs: Which Fits You?

You’ve got half an hour, a pencil, and nobody to argue about the rules with. Excellent. Now comes the awkward bit: choosing a solo RPG.

Some games give you a story to navigate. Others ask you to write one. Some hand you tools and wait to see what trouble you cause. Here’s how to tell which sounds like your kind of evening.

Gamebooks: let the adventure bring the trouble

In a typical gamebook, you read a numbered section, choose from the options, and follow the reference. The author has prepared the situations and their consequences. You might also roll dice, manage supplies, or record decisions that matter later.

Imagine reaching a bridge at dusk. There’s a bell beneath the arch, ringing without anyone touching it. A gamebook might offer three choices: cross, investigate, or find another route. You choose; the next section reveals what happens. Whoever installed the haunted bell has already done the preparation for you. Very considerate.

This approach suits you if you want to discover an authored adventure and make decisions inside it. Keeping track of your character usually matters more than writing elegant prose. The trade-off is that the book can’t provide a bespoke answer to every idea you have.

WAYPOINT uses numbered sections alongside character rules and adventure-specific procedures. Our first-session guide shows what that looks like at the table.

Journaling games: find out what it means to your character

Journaling games often give you prompts and rules that shape a character’s experiences. You respond by creating a record: perhaps a diary, letters, or brief notes. The writing is part of play, rather than homework assigned afterward.

At our bridge, an invented prompt might ask: “The bell brings back a memory you’d rather forget. What happened here, and why have you returned?” You decide what that means and write the answer. The interesting question may be less “Can I cross?” and more “Why does crossing matter?”

You don’t need to produce a novel. Follow the particular game’s instructions, but don’t mistake polished prose for good play. A few plain sentences can carry plenty of weight.

For a distinctive example, Tim Hutchings’s Thousand Year Old Vampire explores a vampire’s long life and the loss of memories. Check its themes before choosing it for a relaxing evening; immortality comes with some fairly poor employee benefits.

Open-ended solo RPGs: choose an action, then discover the result

Here you decide what your character attempts, while rules and tools help determine what happens. An “oracle” might answer a question or supply a prompt when you need something you haven’t already decided. You interpret the result in context and keep playing.

At the bridge, you might inspect the bell’s rope, bargain with whatever is beneath the arch, or build a raft. There’s no need to find your plan on a printed menu. The game’s procedures help resolve uncertainty; you connect the results into a developing situation.

That freedom asks more improvisation of you, but it doesn’t require inventing a continent before breakfast. Start with one character and one immediate problem. Shawn Tomkin’s Ironsworn, for example, supports solo quests with rules and creative prompts; its complete digital core game is free.

Which would you enjoy tonight?

Choose a gamebook if you’d like the adventure waiting for you. Try journaling if exploring your character through writing sounds appealing. Pick an open-ended game if you’re itching to try actions nobody put on a list.

These approaches overlap. You can keep a journal while playing a gamebook, and an open-ended game can provide firm structure. Preparation depends on the individual game, not just its label.

Try one scene before committing to a grand campaign. By the time you’ve dealt with that bridge, you’ll know whether you want another.