(Even When the Hobby Feels Broken.)

Today I want to speak from the heart—no rules, no monster stats, just the essence of why we play. If you’ve been feeling like tabletop RPGs aren’t for you anymore, or like the hobby’s leaving you behind, you’re not alone. I’ve felt it too. Yet, even when it hurts, I still love this thing.

The current TTRPG scene can feel overwhelming: loud, fast, full of hype, drama, algorithms, and money. New $60 hardcovers drop every few weeks for whatever system. DungeonTubers chase the next big sponsor. Creators sometimes tear each other down under the guise of “positivity,” making it feel like you must pledge allegiance to a brand to stay relevant. If you speak out against any given DungeonTuber, you’re the bad guy, part of the “outrage mill” or whatever they want to call it.

That’s not what got me into roleplaying. We didn’t even have YouTube back in the day. We had word-of-mouth advertising and a whole lot of chutzpah at times because we had to stand up to some pretty nasty critics just to enjoy our hobby.

Disclaimer: Statements expressed in this article are strictly my opinion. If you disagree or have a different opinion, that’s okay. I’m not an expert on everything. I’m not always right. I’m just writing from my experience as I know it. Your mileage may vary.

The heart of the hobby exists off of YouTube.

I fell in love with RPGs because of imagination, “community,” and deeper connection.

It started with homebrew worlds sketched in notebooks, late-night sessions with odd characters, emotional moments, and too much caffeine. It was freedom to explore, create, and maybe connect with others. Beneath the noise and corporate glitter, that soul of the hobby is still glowing somewhere.

To the others who may be experiencing this, you’re not alone.

If you feel priced out, talked over, or invisible, you’re not alone. Many of us share that struggle. Do what lights you up. Don’t take some influencer’s word for it.

If you’re trying to make content without selling out, I see you. I hear you. It’s tough.

If you want to shout into the void because someone with a Patreon and a plastic crown or an orange wizard hat seems to belittle creators who inspired you, I hear that rage. I’ve never needed a sponsor or a big corporation to tell me what to do.

You’re not broken. The hobby’s in a weird spot, but we’re still here, building something better. Daggerheart and Dungeons & Dragons are on everyone’s lips right now, but what about next week? Or the week after? Will Pathfinder find its way back to the limelight? Will Tales of the Valiant become relevant again? What about Shadowdark?

What I’m doing.

I’ll keep making videos, writing articles, and building the weird little worlds I love. I have more campaign ideas for more games than I’ve ever had players for. Possibly more than some supposed content creators have ever even heard-of.

I’ll lift up creators who speak from the soul, not just chase metrics. I don’t need Wizards of the Coast or Darrington Press to write my scripts. I’ll chase the joy that first drew me into this hobby.

I’ll aim to be a lantern for anyone walking in the dark beside me without trashing on other content creators. We don’t need sponsorships or big names. We need the same old rulebooks, dice, paper, pencils, and imaginations that we started with however many years ago.

Who I love.

Creators like Discourse Minis, who speak truth with insight and empathy. Sure, she might drop a clickbait title now and then. At least she got us to sit up and take notice. Her witty insights and off-the-rails commentary keep us coming back every week on two different channels.

Everyone drawing maps, rolling dice, and telling stories that matter you’re keeping the heart of the hobby alive. The weirdos, indie dreamers, folks still using d20 systems in garages, you’re my people. It’s not about what game you’re running or having a camera on you. It’s about the love of the game.

If this resonates and you feel a bit less alone, you’ve already got a seat at my table. No logo or subscription required—just bring your weirdness, kindness, and imagination. We’re still here; the fire’s still burning; I’m not done yet.

Thank you for being here with me today. I appreciate you. Keep it real, but please strive for positivity, too. Please embrace the things that bring you the most joy in your life.