Until last year, I played massively multiplayer online role playing games for the better part of six years, starting with EverQuest during its launch in 1999. I spent the bulk of my time in Dark Age of Camelot and World of Warcraft. I also played quite a few other MMOs, including Shadowbane, City of Heroes, Lineage II, EVE Online, and the beta for Star Wars: Galaxies.

Besides being online, these games had a few things in common: they kept me busy, and they kept me from feeling socially isolated. Whether I was living in a small mountain town in Oregon or working from home in Virginia with a very small meatspace social circle, MMOs were a way for me to jump online and adventure with friends. While MMOs are a significant commitment and aren’t always fun, I will not deny their entertainment and social value. Not only have MMOs allowed me to keep in touch with friends across the country, but they have helped me make some very real friends in “meatspace.” For some, like Alexa and Fathir, their real-life relationship started in-game.

I felt like online games were keeping me from doing other things, like writing for Gibberish. So I hung up my avatars for good last July. I haven’t regretted this decision, although Lady Jaye and I joke about rejoining WoW. After almost a year off, I’ve noticed that something strange has happened to me and my video gaming: console games are not nearly as compelling as their online role playing counterparts.

I’ve been console gaming mostly since my MMO hiatus, after a brief unpleasant experience with Galactic Civilizations II on the PC. I’ve tried to complete a few games that were must-haves for each system, such as Halo for the Xbox. I haven’t found them compelling enough to keep playing. I am probably 1/3rd of the way through Halo and have given up on it. Same thing with the latest Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess game for the Wii. These aren’t bad games, but I’m not excited enough by them to keep playing.

I zipped through Call of Duty 3 for the Wii, and that was fun for a few four-hours-at-a-time sessions. But then I finished the game, and sent it back to GameFly. There’s no reason to play this game again, and I’m glad I didn’t buy it. My CoD3 experience was what sparked the idea for this article: after being spoiled by MMOs, other video games are not nearly as emotionally, physically, or virtually engaging. What used to be commonplace, playing four or five hours at a stint without realizing it, is now a rarity on a console. I used to spend a significant part of my day just in the Auction House of WoW, making deals and engaging in economic warfare with fellow players. Even fun console games like Rayman: Raving Rabbids weren’t captivating enough to hold me for more than an hour or two at a time. I doubt that Rayman will see much replay, either, despite generating a lot of laughs and “OH MY GOD!” moments that were enjoyable.

Guitar Hero is the closest thing I have that is an addictive-type game similar to my MMO experience. I got it as a gift from Lady Jaye during the holidays, and it was all I could do to put the game down while company was around. And sometimes, well, I’d look over my shoulder to see two couches full of people watching me play. Sorry about that, I should have been a better host. I wish Guitar Hero II had a /played command, as I’m interested to see how much time I’ve spent playing “Killing in the Name Of” over and over. I’m on a quest to finish all of the standard songs on “hard” difficulty, and thanks to my fumble-fingers that should take quite a long time. Lady Jaye hooked me up with the original Guitar Hero for Valentine’s Day, so mercifully this gives me another game to play when I tire of or give up on GH2.

Because of my MMO years, I have a huge backlog of “must-play” console titles. I mentioned Halo. I also have some Splinter Cell and Rainbow 6 games to play, as well as God of War and Stubbs the Zombie. I don’t know if playing MMOs have instilled a sense of “quest completion,” but I feel compelled to finish any console game I start. It took a pretty serious conversation with myself to stop playing Halo, and I bet I’ll pick it up again in a few months to work on it some more. And therein lies my complaint: I’m not playing games any more, I’m working on them. I feel guilty for starting something I haven’t finished, and feel compelled to set aside time to clear a chapter or two of Halo.

I know that some of you either still play MMOs or have abandoned them like I have after a long history of playing. What has your experience been with console games vs MMOs? Granted, I am involved in game playing of some sort these days — mostly RPGs of the tabletop and virtual variety, but the long waiting period between sessions keeps the games from having the same feel as my MMO days. When I got home from work or had a spare moment, I couldn’t wait to log in again. These days, it’s a chore to just push the power button.