If steampunk is what happens when goths discover brown, LitRPG is what happens when high fantasy nerds discover math.
I'm kidding, but to quickly understand the appeal of this growing speculative subgenre, it boils down to exciting fantasy or scifi worldbuilding, satisfying character growth, and game elements which make the world's internal rules and the main character's growth visible.
That, in a nutshell, is what LitRPG is.
So if you're a writer who enjoys creating complex, adversarial worlds, and relatable protagonists whose journeys take them from nobody to epic hero, then this subgenre might be your ideal creative playground. And if you're a gamemaster who has dreamed of writing a novel one day, LitRPG might be the ideal place to start!
So let's boot up the system, and explore!
LitRPG is short for "literary roleplaying game," a term that emerged in the early 2010s to describe fiction that combined traditional narrative structure with elements pulled from roleplaying games. The novel Ready Player One predates the term, but it features many of the tropes of the genre. You have an ordinary protagonist who is a nobody in their own world, who is pulled into what's called a 'system' (so yes, this is a subgenre of portal fantasy).
The system is the new world, which works like a videogame. As such, it has explicit rules. In this new world, the protagonist has a stat block of skills and abilities they can access and edit.
In some cases the system or world is sapient and actively working to defeat the protagonist. So if you're storyteller who loves worldbuilding, this can be a really appealing subgenre to write. You can give your world a voice and a personality in a way you've never done before!

From a marketing perspective, LitRPG is dominated by indie-publishing, but thanks to the huge success of some titles like Dungeon Crawler Carl, even traditional publishing is getting in on the action.
And speaking of "action," LitRPG is often full of combat, challenges, and explosive action scenes—that's how your protagonist survives in the system and levels up. So if you love writing fight scenes, chases, heists, and other high-adventure elements, that's another big sign that this might be a great genre for you to try out!
The subgenre, while new, has absolutely exploded in popularity, and it's easy to see why. The tangible character growth provides satisfying pay-offs throughout the narrative, not just at key plot points. Using a familiar framework pulled from videogames and tabletop RPGs reduces exposition for mechanical details.
It introduces new forms of narrative tension with resource management and in some cases a literal countdown timer. And LitRPG offers powerful wish fullfilment to readers, with power that is earned through hard work as opposed to the "chosen one" destiny common in traditional high fantasy.
But the best way to figure out the appeal of LitRPG to readers is to read it yourself! I recommend you check out the following popular titles.
As you read these books, analyze how successful authors balance crunch with narrative, integrate mechanics, and maintain engagement.
There are different tropes, niches and plot structures within the bigger umbrella of LitRPG. Here are some examples, with a brief description.
Choose a niche and story structure that serves your strengths and interests, not just current trends. If you love intimate character studies, a dungeon crawler's constrained setting might suit you better than an empire builder's sprawling scope. If you're fascinated by economics and systems thinking, town building offers rich possibilities. Let your natural interests guide you toward the subgenre where you'll write most authentically.
Point of view is crucial in LitRPG because you need intimate access to game mechanics without breaking immersion. First person dominates the genre for good reason—it puts readers directly in the protagonist's head as they read stat screens, make build decisions, and react to system notifications. The immediacy of "I gained three levels" feels more visceral than "he gained three levels." First person also naturally justifies why we're seeing interface elements—we're experiencing them through the character's eyes.
Third person can work, particularly in limited third person that stays tight to one perspective. This offers slightly more narrative distance, which some readers prefer, and can make ensemble casts easier to manage. However, you'll need to work harder to justify how system information appears. An omniscient narrator explaining game mechanics can feel detached and academic rather than exciting.
The critical mistake that destroys immersion is switching POV mid-scene. If you're in your protagonist's head as they examine their stats, don't suddenly jump to another character's perspective without a clear scene break. This jolts readers out of the game-like experience you're crafting. Similarly, avoid having your narrative voice suddenly become a detached game master explaining rules. Stay grounded in character experience.
In your opening chapters, don't over-explain your setup. Readers will suspend disbelief and accept that game mechanics exist if you present them confidently and move on. Introduce mechanics when they become relevant. Your protagonist doesn't need to understand the entire skill tree in chapter one; they need to know about the fireball spell they just unlocked to survive the current fight.
Dialogue offers natural explanation opportunities, especially through mentor-student dynamics. Having an experienced character explain mechanics to your newbie protagonist lets you educate readers without obvious exposition. But keep it concise and relevant to immediate needs.
World Anvil's Character templates make it easy for you to look up and reference your protagonist's stats, history and attributes as you write. And the Natural Law template is great for noting the System Rules, so you can maintain consistency.
If your protagonist is deciding between two legendary weapons that will define their build for the next ten levels, readers want to see the comparison. If they're selling vendor trash, a quick "I sold the excess gear for 47 gold" suffices. (And for those plot-centric items, it's easy to drop a stat block in a World Anvil article to see exactly what each does.)
Integrate mechanics purposefully with plot. Every system element you introduce should serve your story. If you've established a complex crafting system, use it to solve plot problems or create meaningful choices.
Avoid deus ex machina with sudden new abilities. If your protagonist conveniently unlocks a new skill exactly when they need it without foreshadowing, readers will feel cheated. Establish what's possible early, even if specific abilities come later.
Favor storytelling over spreadsheets. Yes, LitRPG readers enjoy numbers and optimization, but they're reading a novel, not playing a game themselves. The stats should enhance emotional investment, not replace it. When your protagonist finally hits level 20, we should care because of what they sacrificed to get there and what it means for their goals, not just because the numbers increased.
The balance is this: crunchy enough to satisfy, streamlined enough to entertain.
Power progression is exciting, but it's not a story by itself. Your protagonist needs clear story goals beyond leveling. What do they actually want? Revenge? To save someone? To escape? To understand who created the system? The levels are tools toward that goal, not the goal itself.
Character emotional arcs must develop alongside power progression. As your protagonist gains abilities, they should also gain wisdom, confront their flaws, form relationships, and change as a person. The most satisfying LitRPG shows external power growth mirroring internal character growth.
Resolve storylines satisfyingly—don't string readers along endlessly. Yes, LitRPG often comes in series, and yes, you can leave threads for future books, but each volume needs emotional payoff. End on resolution of immediate conflicts and character growth, not cliffhangers that feel like the story just stopped mid-sentence. World Anvil's Timelines feature is a great visual tool for you to keep track of your various plot lines, so you can see the natural breaks in the storyline.
LitRPG antagonists often fall into the trap of being pure obstacles—high-level bosses with big stats and nothing else. Don't do this. Give villains philosophy, not just power. What do they believe? What are they trying to achieve? Why do they think they're right?
Defeating the villain should prove something about your protagonist's values or worldview, not just that they ground more levels. Maybe your protagonist wins by cooperation while the villain relied only on personal power. Maybe they show mercy where the villain showed none, or find a creative solution the villain's rigid thinking couldn't conceive.
How you present stats and system information on the page matters immensely. You have several options for stat block presentation: embedded in prose, set apart as system notifications, formatted as interface screens, or shown as character sheets. Choose a format and stay consistent.
When to show detailed stats vs. summarize depends on narrative pacing. During intense action, "My health dropped to critical levels" works better than "Health: 47/893." When your protagonist is carefully planning their build or comparing equipment, readers want the numbers. Let pacing guide your choice.
Making system text scannable respects your readers' time. If you're showing a full stat block, format it clearly:
Name: Marcus Tarkis
Level: 23
Class: Shadow Blade
Health: 1,247/1,247
Mana: 843/920
This is easier to parse than paragraphs of embedded stats. Some readers will read every number; others will skim. Clear formatting accommodates both.
How World Anvil can help: Create reusable, embeddable stat block templates in your worldbuilding bible. Define the standard format once—what information appears, in what order, with what labels. Then when you need to show stats in your manuscript, you're working from a consistent template. This ensures you don't accidentally change "Mana" to "MP" halfway through your book or reorder attributes randomly.
LitRPG demands robust worldbuilding organization. You're not just tracking plot and character—you're tracking numerical progression, skill interactions, equipment stats, ability cooldowns, and system rules. In a 100,000-word novel, your protagonist might gain 30 levels, unlock dozens of abilities, and acquire scores of items. If you don't track this meticulously, you'll contradict yourself.
Maintaining rule consistency in long series is even more critical. Book three readers will absolutely catch if you said mages can't learn warrior skills in book one, then have your mage protagonist using a sword skill in book three. Your most engaged readers know your system as well as you do—sometimes better.
LitRPG offers tremendous creative freedom, but that freedom comes with organizational demands. By treating your game system as seriously as your worldbuilding and using tools designed for complex, interconnected information, you'll craft a satisfying reading experience that rewards both casual fans and hardcore system-optimizers. Create a free World Anvil account, boot up your world, roll your stats, and start writing your adventure.

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