Two years after its release, Balatro* remains one of the most unexpected successes in modern indie gaming—a card-based roguelike that has sold millions of copies and inspired a cult following. Yet for its creator, the journey to this point began not with a polished vision, but with a four-word command-line experiment scribbled during a college lecture.
The developer, known as LocalThunk, has spent years in relative obscurity, avoiding the spotlight despite the game’s runaway popularity. But in a rare personal reflection posted to mark the anniversary, he revisits the moment he abandoned an engineering degree to chase an untested passion—one that would eventually consume his nights, his grades, and ultimately, his life in ways he couldn’t have predicted.
It wasn’t a calculated move. The first spark came during an introductory computer science class, where LocalThunk built a rudimentary ladder game in the terminal. The project was trivial—just four words—but it ignited something in him. I wasn’t a good student, he notes, but that small act of creation felt undeniably right. Engineering, by contrast, felt like a chore. The choice to drop out wasn’t a grand decision; it was the absence of resistance. It was hardly a choice at all, he writes. I had made a few programs that convinced me this was the thing for me.
The fallout was immediate. He fell behind in coursework, scraping by on the bare minimum to pass. Yet even as his grades suffered, he couldn’t stop building. Late-night sessions turned into half-finished prototypes shared with friends and family—small programs with no audience, but each one a thrill to create. The distraction from school deepened, but so did his conviction. It was the best time of my life, he recalls, though the irony of that statement would only become clear later.
His most ambitious project at the time was a grand strategy simulation, a land-grab simulation in the style of Europa Universalis. It was nothing like the fast-paced, card-driven chaos of Balatro, but it was the first time he glimpsed the scale of what he could build. All-nighters, rough prototypes, and more bad grades followed. Yet none of it prepared him for what came next: the success, the scrutiny, the fear, the stress—and, ultimately, the joy of seeing millions play a game born from a late-night whim.
Today, LocalThunk remains in the thick of it. The highly anticipated Balatro* 1.1 update is still in development, following the mantra it’s done when it’s done. In the meantime, fans can dive into the game’s ever-expanding roster of crossovers or explore its unhinged merchandise, a testament to the game’s enduring appeal. For the creator, though, the real story isn’t the numbers or the awards. It’s the reminder that sometimes, the most important lessons come from the moments you can’t plan for—and the ones you’d never trade.
The game’s unexpected rise hasn’t softened his perspective on the path that led here. I’m not even sure if there’s a lesson to learn, he reflects. I’m not sure what I could have said to prepare for the insanity. And yet, two years in, the insanity shows no signs of stopping.
