New York Times, Thursday, August 18, 2022

Cracking a theme idea usually gives me an endorphin rush, a sort of cruciverbal runner's high. (Punner's high?) (Sorry.) (Actually, not sorry. No shame in my game.)

With this idea, though, it was more a rush of tentative dread because I was certain someone must have beaten me to the punch. Heck, Jeff Chen himself had even tweeted about it six months earlier. And yet, despite checking every resource I could find, it seemed like the theme hadn't been done.

So I set out to make the grid... and quickly realized why.

I must've made over 25 versions of this puzzle (I only submitted three—don't worry, I don't waste the editorial team's time *that* much). An early rejection had NADA (GEENA DAVIS, ALL IN A DAY'S WORK) and SQUAT (SASQUATCH, LOUIS QUATORZE), which the eds thought were more analogous with "nothing" than "zero." I tried LOVE (ALL OVER, DONALD GLOVER) as a fifth rebus, but the fill buckled under the pressure. Even ZIP was almost a non-starter (you may have doubts about JACUZZI PARTY, but I promise it's one million billion times better than the only other phrase that hides *ZI P*).

Why spend so much time making a crossword? Because it's fun. And challenging. And, in my opinion, kinda beautiful. I'm lucky to have found a hobby that so perfectly suits what I'm about and a community of people with whom I really feel like I belong. Love you, crossworld. See you next time!

I've hit the elusive INBOX ZERO a total of once this past year, and it was such a feeling of freedom and joy; a veritable HEAVE(N ON E)ARTH … for the none minutes it lasted, anyway.

INBOX ZERO is such a vivid phrase, and it's ripe for rebus play. Maybe the grammar is tortured — if only the phrase were ZERO IN-BOX — but it's more than adequate to justify the conceit.

My favorite themer was HEAVE(N ON E)ARTH. Not only is it uplifting (ha), but breaking your target entry across three words of a phrase is fantastic. A close second was RE(NO NE)VADA, as I have many fond memories of visiting close friends there (if you ever visit, make sure to go to Peg's Glorified Ham 'N Eggs; tell them I sent you!). To have these two cross was pure delight. This is how all rebuses AUGHT to be.

I plunked in BIKINI LINES right away since I went through a lot of internal debate about whether or not I should use it in mine. Ten years ago, I would have jumped at the chance to include something racy like this, but perhaps my age — and my wife's distaste for such private (ahem) entries — is showing. Sadly, it was the only entry that worked for the length I needed.

JACUZ(ZI P)ARTY … as Adam mentioned, I wondered if this is a thing. I stay out of hot tubs, those breeding grounds for all sorts of bacteria (said the grumpy old man), so although HOT TUB PARTY sounded much stronger, the Goog seemed to think that JACUZ(ZI P)ARTY was okay. It's a heck of a lot better than NA(ZI P)ARTY, anyway.

Though I have always wanted to see the UFFI(ZI P)ALACE …

AUGHT is a tough string to work with. Does L(AUGH T)EST pass the smell test of being colorful enough to be worthy of being a themer? L(AUGH T)RACK feels much stronger to this child raised by Mrs. C of "Happy Days." That would necessitate a 16-wide grid, though.

Solid rebus, with nothing some great things to hide. I appreciated getting some PAN PIZZA and CHROMECAST bonuses, too.