New York Times, Friday, February 24, 2017

Don't know if you can tell, but this puzzle had to be scaled back slightly from its original, larger ambitions. After some futzing around, LASTSTRAW was slotted for 1A but due to various formal and aesthetic constraints, like my non-acceptance of multiple STILTONS where TILTSAT is, and 31D/32D crossing three very long entries in a relatively open region, there was no way I could get the other corner to work without breaking it up. But I liked the top half too much to completely put the puzzle away for good.

Clues that stayed that have personal resonance: 3D (love that description) and 19A (I studied Xhosa for a semester and Zulu for a year and a half; can't really speak either to save my life).

As for 1D, it's the final Q that makes this entry new to a Times puzzle, and semantically, it's the most interesting letter, what with its dual meaning of "queer"/"questioning." Although the Q now seems to be standardized, its widespread adoption is still relatively recent, and has its remaining detractors, despite reclamation in inclusive circles of the word "queer." The National LGBTQ Task Force was renamed in 2014, I learned, and GLAAD only updated its media handbook to recommend its usage in October 2016. Some advocates, out of a desire to be more specific, have adopted my favorite version of the acronym: QUILTBAG.

A chance, anyhow, to meditate on a wider significance of single letters beyond the boxes of a crossword puzzle.

Often, themelesses featuring a lot of 15-letter entries don't have a lot else to talk about. I like Andrew's innovative layout, spacing out his 15-letter entries so the rest of his grid can breathe and shine. He weaves in an impressive 12 long entries — so hard to do when some of them are grid-spanners.

I loved QWERTY KEYBOARDS and its clue. That QWE* start is so odd, and what a great misdirect, referring to "power output." This still confused me even after I got the answer. I finally realized the clue meant that the top of the keyboard — the top line — could be used exclusively when typing the words "power output." Clever!

BRITISH INVASION was nice too. Oldie but a goodie. DESI ARNAZ too. And the pairing of DRIVE TIME and MASERATIS was fun. I like it when a themeless constructor can generate associations between adjacent or crossing answers.

Not as much a fan of EXERCISE SCIENCE and EDITORIAL WRITER. Both are legit, but neither sing to me. Interesting terms to look up, but I doubt either will stick in my memory, not like QWERTY KEYBOARDS. In themelesses featuring 15-letter answers, I want those feature entries to shine. The north half of the puzzle, that was the case, to full effect. The south, not so much.

A notable aspect of Andrew's puzzle is how smooth it is — this usually isn't the case for themelesses featuring uber-long entries. The grid is constrained all over the place, with those 15s and 10s and 9s interlocking, creating so much rigidity and inflexibility. But Andrew scoots by with just an outdated QWEST (now CenturyLink) and Sydney OMARR, plural RENES, RAH.

Well, there are the oddballs: OSIER, KITER, NATAL. Hmm. Each is reasonably fine on its own, but as a group, they didn't leave me with a great impression.

Some of that overall smoothness of fill may have come at the expense of snazzy entries. I wonder if EXERCISE SCIENCE and/or EDITORIAL WRITER could have been replaced with snappier entries if Andrew had allowed a little more crossword glue. Ah, the eternal trade-off.

Yay for the Q in LGBTQ! I had been wondering when it'd finally make its debut (past just LGBT).