Survivor Incognito came from the idea that I’m just an ordinary player fumbling through extraordinary survival scenarios. I’m not the strongest, fastest, or bravest — I’m just trying to make it through without drawing too much attention… which usually fails the moment the wolves show up.

(Plenty more survival attempts — not so incognito — at Survivor Incognito.)

Curiosity. In survival games and in life, I want to know what’s over the next hill — even if it’s just another wolf or a flooded road. The promise of discovery (and the chance to laugh when it goes wrong) keeps me moving forward.

(Plenty more curiosity-fuelled chaos at Survivor Incognito.)

The connection. Writing lets me share survival chaos with people who get it — those who know the panic of wolves howling in The Long Dark or the joy of finally finding duct tape in Stranded Deep. It turns solo survival into a shared adventure

(Plenty more shared survival chaos at Survivor Incognito.)

Loving where I live is easy — mainly because I don’t need a campfire and a hunting knife just to make it through the week.

The weather. Specifically, that it isn’t as brutal as the survival games I play. Sure, it rains more than I’d like, but at least I don’t have to fight off wolves on the way to the shops or light a campfire just to boil tap water.

(For harsher climates and questionable survival tactics, Survivor Incognito has plenty.)

Amusement. Usually at my own terrible survival decisions. If I can laugh after freezing to death in The Long Dark or being headbutted by a doedicurus in ARK, then I’m probably doing alright.

Because if I can’t laugh at freezing, starving, or being eaten by wolves, what’s the point?

(Plenty more questionable decisions and laughs at Survivor Incognito.)

I treat goals like I treat survival game objectives: make a list, ignore it, then improvise wildly while avoiding disaster. Sometimes I even complete the original goal — usually by accident.

(Plenty more accidental victories at Survivor Incognito.)

Step 1: Gather essentials — food, water, first-aid kit, and a fully charged Nintendo Switch.
Step 2: Identify safe zones (bonus if they have Wi-Fi).
Step 3: Keep a backup power bank, because no disaster is worse than a dead console mid-survival run.
Step 4: Practice evacuation routes — both in real life and in-game, because you never know when the blizzard (or the cougar) will hit.

(For more survival plans — most of which involve questionable decisions — Survivor Incognito is fully prepared.)

“Immersive.” It’s become the seasoning everyone sprinkles on a game review, even if the most “immersive” part is falling through a glitchy map. In my world, true immersion is shivering on the couch while playing The Long Dark on Voyageur.

(Plenty more “immersive” disasters await at Survivor Incognito.)

A quiet moment in a survival game — when the blizzard stops, the wolves wander off, and all you can hear is the crackle of the campfire. It’s the calm between the chaos, and it lasts just long enough for me to forget I still need to find food, water, and a way not to freeze to death.

(For more fleeting moments of in-game peace — and a lot more chaos — Survivor Incognito has you covered.)

Search and rescue teams. They put themselves in danger to pull total strangers (and occasionally very confused dogs) out of trouble. In survival games, I’m usually the one who needs rescuing, so I have huge respect for anyone who can do it for real — without pausing to check their inventory.

(Until the rescue chopper arrives, you’ll find me surviving virtually at Survivor Incognito.)