One of the newer outlets on the crossword scene is Defector, a sports-focused blog with a big following. I was curious when I saw it pop up on the Matthew Stock’s Crossword Publication Specs Google Sheet, since I hadn’t heard of it before. So I decided to send along some things I’d been tinkering with and they ended up liking this one.

Here’s the link to my Defector puzzle, titled “Out of Office.” 

The site requires a subscription to view the crossword, but it’s only $8 a month and a lot of the other crosswords on there are pretty fun too. Just not quite as cross-tacular as me!

Plus, they offer high-quality articles like “What Horrible Things Did We Do To Our Penises Last Year?” and “What The Fuck Is A Vaccine Skeptic?“

Props to Defector for offering very fair pay in the way of grids too! These things take a lot of time and effort. Even though my cruciverbalism is a labor of love for me, it still is much appreciated.

Check it out and enjoy the solve!

Give it a try!

Hope you enjoyed the solve or at least appreciated the try!

Shopped this puzzle around a bit but didn’t get any takers. As I self-publish more and more I am finding more fun in getting to play with the clues and entries more. With major publications (and even smaller ones too), the editors have a lot of different competing interests: obligations to their readers, conventions that are built into the venue’s history, and their own personal preferences.

It got me thinking a little bit about rejection in general and odd-sized puzzles. But before I hit you with a Carrie Bradshaw-sized eugoogly for all my rejected creations, let me give you the actual puzzle!

https://puzzleme.amuselabs.com/pmm/crossword?id=fc5ab5f1&set=2d3ff28a07d3dee61cee5bd158e37ad4d55e075ad4e76f1ebe2ee35e73c2c72a 

Some quotes from three of the rejections for this puzzle:

“While we appreciate the attempt for a really open section, we’re not sure that the pay off will ultimately be worth it to our solvers given how much clunky wordlisty fill is in here. So while we appreciated stuff like [1-Across, 32-Across, 35-Across, 29-Down, and 9-Down], we didn’t love stuff like [25-Down, 54-Across, 34-Down, or 37-Across], and most of the other 7+ length fill were at-best neutral for us.”

“We do occasionally run 16×15 puzzles, but for a themeless 16×15, [redacted editor] does hope that there will be at least one 16-letter entry to make the grid feel justifiably large. While this has some fun entries, there aren’t quite enough long or exciting entries to justify the larger size.”

“Unfortunately, this puzzle didn’t emerge as one of our top favorites among competing themeless submissions, though we admired the construction. Due to the high volume of submissions we receive, the [redacted] must decline many worthy submissions. We recognize the considerable work and creativity that goes into each puzzle we review, and we want you to know that we’ve given this puzzle careful consideration.”

Honestly, as a gay man who has used dating/hookup apps, I am no stranger to rejection. I am of the mind on those apps that you don’t really owe strangers any reply, especially when you aren’t interested. If you choose to be extra chivalrous, and politely decline a good sir, that’s your own prerogative.

The crossword world is obviously a bit different. It is understandable that some of their rejection letters need to be boilerplate, given how many they send out. But it is nice to get a rejection that acknowledges the amount of time it takes to build a grid and clue a puzzle. The Times in particular will not accept theme queries or unclued themeless grids, so I appreciate when they at least give a nod toward the time you spent on a puzzle (even if they hated it!).

If editors have the time to pass on their feedback, especially when you’re just first submitting to them, it really does help. I start to build some of their suggestions into my constructing process, and things that I was intuiting but not sure about, I start to become more sure about. Consider the entry, “I NAILED IT!” for example. To me, it seems fun and rather usable, at first glance. It’s something you might say aloud, for sure. However, given that “NAILED IT!” is considerably more “in the language” than “I NAILED IT!,” it starts to become less desirable, and even can count a negative mark on a puzzle.

With themeless submissions to the Times, I’ve debated the utility of spending a ton of time making the clues great. Editors are always going to change a lot of the clues, usually more than 50% of them. I’ve never really had them comment back that the clues are bad, but I have had them comment back saying they appreciated the effort put into cluing and coming up with unique clues. So for now, I err on the side of trying to come up with original clues. Plus, any true themeless connoisseur knows that there is something just so special about coming up with the perfect “hard” clue for a long entry. Something specific enough not to make the solver mad about the vagueness, but clever enough to take some time to crack. Simple, maybe a little bit crossword-nerdy, but fun. 

As a side note, I feel like some of these “perfect hards” are being less emphasized in some of the newer crossword venues, which have mentioned trying to make clues that are more akin to playing a game of Taboo/charades with friends rather than trying to please a crossword editor (or connoisseur, by extension, I guess).

Some examples of perfect hard clues for me that I remember are: “Remains to be seen, say” for MUSEUM EXHIBIT (published in a Sam Ezersky NYT Saturday), “Drags through the mud” for DIRT ROADS (Ryan McCarty and me in a puzzle draft), and “Shares on the internet, say” for ?????????? (in this damned puzzle right here in the post, haha!).

Thoughts on the benefits and risks of odd-sized/oversized daily puzzles:

BENEFIT: Flexibility and a fresh touch!

They give you some flexibility and can breathe life into a puzzle/entry you thought was DOA. They can help to accommodate entries which don’t fit so well in the typical 15×15 grid. I especially like how a 16×15 or 15×16 can fit a stack of 14-letter-long entries, usually staggered in a group of three. I haven’t experimented much with 14×16 or 16×14, but I’d expect similar happenings.

RISK: Less places to publish.