New York Times, Thursday, September 3, 2020

The archetypal Thursday Times puzzle, in my mind, is one that advisedly breaks the rules of crosswords in service of a clever theme. My favorite puzzles exist in a subset of that description: crosswords whose grids themselves are delinquent. As a solver, when my expectations of a crossword are subverted from the moment I look at the grid, I feel charged with discovering the trickery baked inside that unconventional shell. And, as a constructor, grid-bending Thursday ideas come more readily to me than themes based on wordplay or trivia.

Unfortunately, the technical constraints of publishing in various print and digital media spell trouble for many puzzles of this type. Today's puzzle was initially submitted with a nonstandard grid numbering scheme, which best indicates how the theme entries are intended to be read: starting at the grid number, continuing to the right, and then "bouncing back" to the left. Fortunately, the Times editing team found a reasonable solution in circling the first letter of each theme answer. I think it works, and I'm grateful that this puzzle was able to run in the Times at all, but ultimately it's a compromise. I hope it makes for a fun solve nonetheless!

On the bright side, WALLA WALLA WASHINGTON (20) was a neat find for this 15×15 grid, and I'm pretty stoked to debut GAY RODEO in the national crossword puzzle of record. I'm also happy that my clues for NOSE and METAL made the cut, and I like the editing team's echoing in the clues for ALL and NO ONE.

I'll end with a plug for Crossnerds, a cruciverbal podcast by broadcaster (and now, crossword constructor) extraordinaire Rebecca Neipris. I make a guest appearance on today's episode, and there are other familiar voices you'll hear if you poke through the archives.

Ha! I caught you all off guard by picking two POW!s in one week. What can I say, I had so much fun solving today's puzzle that I had to do it. I've seen plenty of BACKward puzzles, "repeated string" puzzles, and palindromes, so I should have been predisposed to be tired of today's concept. But it was different enough, with such an apt revealer, that my solve was a delight.

I was interested enough by the concept to write some quick code to see what other themers would have worked. Not many more!

• BOO-BOO BEAR (RAEBOOB sure looks lewd though)
• BURN RUBBER
• FOR-PROFIT BUSINESS
• MY BABY MUST BE A MAGICIAN
• SELFLESS ACTS
• SIDE DISHES
• TASKS AT HAND

It's neat to see a constraint that gives a limited set — that "tightness" lends elegance.

I wondered if the circles could have spelled out something. Would that have been cool … or confusing? The circles in the puzzle didn't feel like a great way to indicate starting points, so perhaps making sure that every start point was under a black square, so you could innocently list the theme clues at their actual start points without adding extra numbers into the grid— ELUSPACE at 26-Across, not 25-Across, for example — would have made this concept even better.

Fantastic gridwork, too, as I've quickly come to expect from Sid. Not a single gloopy short entry, and a whole lot of MAITRE D', ALTIMETERS, GAY RODEO (apparently this is a thing, neat!), SHOT POOL, PANHANDLER. Many constructors would have broken up ALTIMETERS at the M for the sake of gridding ease, and I'm glad that Sid went the extra mile. More bonuses without compromises? Heck, yeah!

Neat to get GODS clued as Rama and Krishna, instead of the usual Greek or Roman god references. That's the kind of subtle influencing that's more effective than the in-your-face approach.

So well done. Interesting concept, top-notch execution, fresh cluing. Sometimes we're blessed with two great puzzles in a week; who am I to deny one of them?

I think I finally figured out what my job is here at XWord Info. I read about how Jeff writes Python code to find Thursday gimmick patterns, and then I show how to get the results more easily using RegEx instead. No coding required.

These queries find four-letter bounce-backs like BANANA BREAD and POTATO PANCAKE, five-letter ones like SPACE CAPSULE, and six-letter ones like WALLA WALLA WASHINGTON.