The gamebook did something no other kind of book had done: it made the reader complicit. When a paperback told you to turn to page 83 if you entered the cave, the wrong ending was your wrong ending. That mechanism — second person, present tense, a decision every few pages — has outlived the mass-market paperback and moved comfortably into the browser, where a link is a much better page-turn than a page ever was.
StorySplice is a visual editor for exactly this form. Every scene is a card on a zoomable map; every choice is a line between cards. You can drag the whole structure around, undo and redo freely, and see at a glance which paths converge and which run off into the dark. When you publish — to the community library, or unlisted behind a private link — readers play in any browser without creating an account, and their progress saves automatically.
The free plan has no limits on creating, publishing, or reading; it includes the full editor, draft sharing, and 10 AI calls a day. You can write an entire book-length adventure without paying anything.
A choose-your-own-adventure story lives or dies on whether its choices are decisions rather than doors. "Go left / go right" is a coin flip; "warn the harbormaster / say nothing and watch" is a character. The classic craft advice holds: write choices a reader can reason about, let consequences arrive within a scene or two, and make endings differ in meaning, not just in survival. A quiet, compromised ending can be more memorable than a triumphant one — the form rewards writers who treat every ending as a statement about the choices that led there. Our guide to writing interactive fiction goes deeper on all three.
The Lighthouse Keeper’s Ledger. 1893. You are the relief keeper on a rock off the Cornish coast, and your predecessor left behind a ledger accusing half the village of wrecking ships for salvage. A storm is due by nightfall. Whom you warn, what you burn, and whether you trust the man rowing out to you decides which of nine endings you reach.
Last Bus Out of Milton. The factory closed in March and the last bus out of town leaves at 11:40 tonight. You have a stolen band jacket, three goodbyes you owe, and time for maybe two of them. Every route out of Milton turns out to be a route back through it.
A branching story is a graph, and prose documents are terrible at holding graphs. The map is the difference between hoping your structure works and seeing it.
If you have a structure already growing in Twine, you can import it — Twine 2 HTML and Twee files both work.
One click publishes to the community library; one click publishes unlisted, shareable by link but not browsable. There is no file to host and nothing to configure. Readers’ progress saves as they play, which matters more than it sounds for longer adventures. On the Pro plan ($6/mo or $48/yr), reader analytics show which choices readers actually take and where they stop — the closest thing this form has to watching someone read over their shoulder.
Yes. Creating, editing, and publishing are unlimited on the free plan, which includes the full visual editor, draft sharing, and 10 AI calls per day. Pro ($6/mo or $48/yr) raises the AI limit to 200 calls a day and adds model choice, Twine/Twee export, and reader analytics.
No. Published stories play in any modern browser with no sign-up, and reading progress saves automatically so readers can leave and come back mid-adventure.
Yes — StorySplice imports Twine 2 HTML files and Twee text files, converting passages to scenes and links to choices. See the import guide for exactly what carries over.
Classic gamebooks ran to dozens, but most modern browser CYOA works land between 4 and 12 endings that each mean something distinct. More important than the count is that endings differ in kind — not just better or worse, but different arguments about the story.
Your story is yours. JSON export is free for everyone, and Pro adds Twee and Twine 2 HTML export, so the work is never locked in.