Chandi Deitmer author page

★ I've brainstormed so many concepts around various barriers, including the SOUND BARRIER — Chandi's is a WITT! (Wish I'd Thought of That.) She takes commonplace phrases and breaks up their phonetic equivalents in cool places.

The results:

• WHO TOWEL = HOOT OWL
• LAUNCH HEIRS = LAWN CHAIRS
• HIGH DOUBTS = HIDEOUTS
• FORK WARTS = FOUR QUARTS
• NEIGH MITT = NAME IT
• PLAGUE EARL = PLAYGIRL
• QUEUE BRUTES = CUBE ROOTS
• SLOPE OAK = SLOWPOKE

I often complain when it's hard to figure out what is theme and what isn't; this is a rare exception that works well. After I got over my initial scowl over WHO TOWEL being so short that it got lost in the fill, it dawned on me that this is precisely why the concept succeeds. It would have been much less interesting if all the pairs had been grayed out.

Working with so many pairs of short entries is a tough ask. It might seem like it's equivalent to gridding around nine themers, eight of which are shortish, but each pair fixes a black square into place, taking away so much flexibility.

Also, staying at the 140-word maximum means you'll need to incorporate more long fill than usual. Chandi was meticulous with her short fill and included loads of BOHO CHIC, I GOTTA GO, TRASH TALK, WHERE WERE WE — in the top half alone!

I hitched on the OTTESSA / PATENT cross, since I didn't easily recognize the [Easily recognizable] definition of PATENT. It'd have been great to go with a more explanatory clue, perhaps going toward the intellectual property definition instead.

Great concept, with a revealer that screams "make me into a Sunday puzzle!" A POW! well earned.

Interesting take on the letter addition / removal genre. Focusing on a single-letter change is usually a losing battle, since the genre has been run nearly out of town over the decades, so combining things — a letter addition plus a letter removal in the same row — can be productive. I appreciated Chandi and Taylor's extra layer, not using just any combination of U removals + U additions, but riffing on the same word pair, like SIT / SUIT.

CAN I STEAL YOU FOR A SECOND is a colorful, colloquial revealer, too. If all the Us had been stolen out of the second position (as in SUIT but not CAUSE), that would have been yet another layer to help the concept stand out.

U-HAUL is a workable title. Feels like there's something better out there, but I couldn't come up with anything sharper. That's often the problem with trying to integrate both a clever revealer and title — one will be amazing while the other will serve its purpose without any flash.

Hilarious clue for PORNSTAR! [One who's barely acting?], heh. Although I've shied away from these types of entries more and more over the years after receiving solver complaints, the wordplay makes it well worth it.

Along with DUDE BRO and ORGY as a [Bodily function?] … WOOF!

(That's what the kids say these days to express … "that was really bad"? Apparently I've been barking up the wrong tree in my usage.)

Interesting take to combine two well-worn genres in a creative way.

Editors don't take many repeated word themes these days, because as you might have guessed, they're too repetitive. Once you figure out that you have to double the first word of each entry, the jig is up and the puzzle is done. Given the genre's decades-long history, it takes a lot to attract editorial attention, but doubling up doubled-up themers with strong execution goes a long way.

(You had to know my obsessiveness would force me to write code to find other possible entries. I found about a dozen more, including SAME OLD SAME OLD, NEW YORK NEW YORK, AND SO ON AND SO ON …)

It is incredibly difficult to stack themers. Stacking five pairs of them — one of which is 16 letters long!) — is asking for trouble. I'm amazed by the grid's clean execution. I can only imagine how much shuffling must have happened; thankfully all those 10-letter theme entries are interchangeable.

I bet only 22 out of 222,222 solvers noticed that the grid is 22x22. Neat touch, given the DOUBLE DOUBLES theme.

Great decision to put MONACO, MONACO (Monaco city, Monaco principality) up top. I was sure I knew what was going on after uncovering SISTER SISTER, but the oddity of MONACO MONACO made me doubt myself. Helped to retain the aura of mystery, at least for a little while.

I was able to jump to each long Across slot and fill in the answer right away, which usually makes my solving experience a huge disappointment — the puzzle is over before it even started. However, overcoming the MONACO MONACO hitch and still whizzing through made me feel smart today, like I could imagine running with the Tyler Hinmans and Dan Feyers of the world one day.

I'm a huge fan of tricky puzzles using the principle of one symbol plus another equals a third. Along with the ones Chandi mentioned, other memorable ones have been two Os atop each other = 8, a similar V over I = Y, and a great dollar and cents involving S and C combined with an I. This one goes one step further, overlaying X over I to form a sort-of asterisk. Another word used to describe an asterisk is … a star! Perfect for this constellation puzzle.

We've had a Sunday big dipper puzzle, and another one on a weekday, so I was skeptical as soon as I saw the constellations already outlined on the print version. It's perfectly fine to repeat a theme if there's some extra layer, but what else could someone do? Well, my stars (sorry) — X + I = (STAR) is indeed a neat way to do something above and beyond!

DOUBLE DIPPERS was a solid way to wrap together the puzzle, too.

It was interesting to study the theme phrases afterward, as I was unaware of these three cultural notions. DRNKING GOURD in African-American folklore, the SEVEN OXEN in Roman, and the WAGON OF HEAVEN in Babylonian. Neat to think about how the stars above connected diverse people from all over the world, from all over time.

Sure was difficult to uncover those unfamiliar phrases, though.

Several new constructors over the years have proposed constellation concepts to me, and I usually explain that I'm not sure there's enough room for yet another big dipper puzzle. This one's X + I = STAR was a great seed concept. Perhaps I would have enjoyed it more if the puzzle hadn't beaten me up so badly? Will Shortz usually aims for mid-week difficulty for his Sunday puzzles, while this one played like a Saturday, what with all the unfamiliar theme phrases, and how long (hours) it took me to figure out the X + I = STAR trick.

A revealer would have been useful: STAR, clued as [What an X overlaid onto an I looks like].

I admire the aim-for-the-stars thinking, though, exactly what the NYT Sunday puzzle should exhibit more often. Love to see it, especially in a debut.