But there’s a different kind of vulnerability in engaging with a text alone. Long Haul 1983 suggests that you use a microphone to record messages left to your character’s loved one. You can listen back at the end, of course, to see what you wove together, but in the moment it’s just the inherent clumsiness of saying things aloud, alone, with a deck of cards and some dice.

No one is there to hypothetically judge your voice or your character. This can be liberating or frightening.

I’m sure someone has put out some highly edited and produced Long Haul 1983 playthrough. I respect them, but that’s not what interests me. I think about the Long Haul 1983 playthroughs that exist in private, like the one that still sits in my phone’s voice memos. I don’t remember exactly what I said, or the exact order of events, but I remember how I fumbled and went quiet sometimes. As things got worse, I would just sit there, breathing slowly, trying to extend the moment of this voicemail a little longer because it meant I didn’t have to pull cards and roll dice again.

I learned from that experience that one of the best tools you can use in any roleplaying experience — solo or group — was silence, or if not silence itself, then at least a lack of narrative. Journaling games offer this in spades.

Kay, "Journaling games live in hushed places" (Medium.com)

If you haven't already had a chance to read this essay, take a look!  It's a powerful dive into an important piece of solo / journaling games, a great primer for new players, and spotlights some key components of Long Haul 1983's design.

https://medium.com/@skelerot/journaling-games-live-in-hushed-places-d576f06b4d9c