Byron Walden author page

DREAMLIKE state today, to have Waldenesque simplicity in a Walden creation. So often I wade around the murky waters of Byron's ponds, asking myself about any particular entry, IS THIS IT? I did cock my head at WAR BLOGS, HEBREW U and NON PUBLIC, but so much natural beauty in the vowel-heavy JUNEAUITE, along with the explosion of rare letters — eight JQXZs! — gave me a dose of spiritual discovery.

I questioned TOSSUP QUESTIONS at first, but having grown up on "Family Feud," I should have known better. I pondered over [They have everyone buzzing] for an embarrassingly long time, before buzzing in with the number one answer.

The engineer in me delighted over the [Round bits] clue, too. I have so many drill bits of every shape and size that I mentally sorted through every single one before realizing that binary code was in play: 0s are literally round bits, while 1s are straight bits.

I'm not wild about partials like IN GOD or the randomness of EXMET or the -ERS of KNEADERS, but in a 68-word creation, they're reasonable prices to pay. Along with so many rare letters and inspiring clues, I came away with a much calmer sense of Walden than usual.

PAR ... TWO? What self-respecting golfer abides by par twos? Certainly not the guys at That's Amazing.

This finance guy was so sure that PAR BOND was the revealer. I mean, who doesn't love accounting and specialized numerical terms?

Right, everyone.

Bill PAR CELLS also stakes a claim to this puzzle.

There are surprisingly few *PAR*PAR* phrases out there. I like Byron's decision to highlight the three grid-spanners. These days, four long(ish) themers is the minimum, but 3x15 still can feel adequate if the phrases are exceptional.

I also appreciated the grid's Waldenization, opened and stretched nearly to themeless levels. Such a simple theme might bore some folks, so smart thinking to work in some MANI PEDIS and CHEAP WINE.

Byron is known for his ultra-difficult Saturdays that sometimes feature esoteric knowledge, so I was daunted to see his byline on a Monday. And when I saw the sheer vastness of the northwest corner, I was quaking! Such a relief to solve that corner; so smooth and interesting.

That generally went for the rest of the puzzle, too. MALTESES didn't come to me quickly, and INANER is an inane "roll-your-own" +ER entry that sometimes makes daunting themeless patterns possible. Well done to keep the fill on par with the simplistic theme.

One of my neighbors recently got into the NYT crossword, and she can get through most Tuesdays now. I'm curious to see how this one strikes her. It's not the most mind-blowing theme, but the wide-open grid with many bonuses provided some welcome variety.

Several of my friends now have Swiss Army keychains engraved with the name Dr. Snip. Talk about genius-level marketing.

Byron's low-word count grids often contain entries that garner attention. I had no problems with VASECTOMY, though — that is, after following the exact process of elimination he described. Neat to see a valuable medical procedure given its due.

I wasn't as sure about BIDENOMICS — is it as in-the-language as Reaganomics, for example? — but it turns out the media uses it. Although people will point to rampant inflation and poor growth during the Biden years, economic policies can take years to give results, so it's too early to tell what BIDENOMICS will bring about.

Doesn't keep me from grumbling about prices at the pump, though.

Curious that DOTARD was not far away from BIDENOMICS — political statement, perhaps? Also curious that I knew that DOT ARD is the new web domain for Ardmore, Pennsylvania.

(Spoken like a true dotard.)

OSCAR BIDS was another that I scratched my head over. OSCAR NODS and OSCAR BAIT, sure. I should have known that studios throw millions of marketing dollars in pushing certain movies for recognition. So much for "may the best movie win."

UP IS DOWN is the one debut entry I wish we'd already had on our XWord Info list. It's so evocative! The full UP IS DOWN AND DOWN IS UP would be even more amazing.

Crossword radar pinging …

PINBALLERS was already in our word list, because Kevin Der had used it a decade ago in an audacious construction requiring an entry with PIN and BALL rebuses next to each other. It was absolutely worth it for that theme. This former pinball wizard is doubtful about how strong it is in today's puzzle, but newspapers do use terms like NFLERS and NBAERS, so there's a case that it's reasonable.

Byron's Saturday themelesses tend to be some of the hardest crosswords around (in addition to Kevin's!), so I was exhausted but JUMPing FOR JOY when I filled in that last square.

SOFT OPTIONS is an apt title for this puzzle, in many ways. Most importantly, when parsed as S OF T OPTIONS, it explains that each of the eight themers follow a three-word pattern, where the first starts with S, the second is OF, and the last begins with T. Note that all the answers stay strictly in three-word territory, making for strong consistency.

Amazing that there are so many solid S* OF T* phrases! I'd have guessed that there might be five, reasonable for a basic weekday theme. I'm not sure I'd ever have come up with SON OF TARZAN or STARS OF TOMORROW. Byron has an uncanny ability to dream up all sorts of entries that are new to crosswords.

I didn't know what soft options meant, which also made it appropriate given some of the fill. Yes, BAD RATING is a debut entry, as is SETS OF TONGS and STATE OF TENNESSEE. "Are these entries I squee over" is a different matter. (Also, see BROCHE, EX ANTE, and RUNED.) It's an issue I often struggle with in Byron's puzzles, giving me fits about how I ought to score these "fresh" entries.

I appreciate that Byron tried to do offer something out of the ordinary by going down to themeless-esque, 132-word territory. The result didn't wow me like a themeless should, though, and the much-too-simple, one-trick theme might not belong on the big Sunday palette.

Still, it's great to experiment and to push boundaries in new ways.

The NYT crossword ought to progress in difficulty not from Monday to Saturday, but from Monday to Waldenday. I'm always up for a challenge to stretch the limits of my abilities, and Byron is one of the best at this. I was vaguely familiar with BALLISTA, being the ubernerd I am, but HIALEAH, ABADAN, even ALT LIT did not come easy.

I also picked up some new terms (RANGELAND), unfamiliar titles (ON NARCISSISM), and even some word definitions, like TENTPOLING as a shoring-up term, and PARSIMONY as mental tightness.

Ironic that COME QUICK kicked off the puzzle, as so many of these answers did anything but that.

I jinxed myself yesterday by saying that it's rare for so many NYT xw debuts to not come from our XWI Word List. Byron is another person who regularly works in entries that neither Jim Horne nor I have thought to add already. I kicked myself for missing UN MEMBERSHIP, which is not only a colorful phrase, but also can take on a lot of wordplay. Byron didn't disappoint, riffing on "country club."

I also loved the wordplay involved with "got in a lather." My kids get in a lather, both ways, when I've SHAMPOOED their hair. No more tears, my butt! Those little gamins.

Speaking of GAMINS, a bit of ALG, ALO, I MET, MSS. I've heard complaints about KRYPTO, but this graphic novel die-hard has read some great work (alt lit?) about Superman's dog.

Funny to see Spock quoted. I can't wait until someone quotes Worf. I'll be the first to declare that a Qapla;!

Sometimes the speedsters post about wanting ultra-challenging crosswords to further shave their solving times. I'm curious to see how quickly Dan Feyer or Erik Agard or Tyler Hinman filled in that lower right corner. Might have pushed their total time to over two minutes!

Fun grouping! It never occurred to me that BACKSEAT DRIVER, COUCH POTATO, and ARMCHAIR quarterback are related. It's too bad that ARMCHAIR FANTASY BASKETBALL GM isn't in the language … yet!

STOOL PIGEON didn't exactly fit, since the first three relate literally to the item you sit on. BACKSEAT DRIVER is all about a person giving instructions while sitting in the backseat, whereas STOOL PIGEON doesn't directly involve sitting. Still, it does work for the theme.

Second day in a row with a 72-word themed puzzle. This one was much more successful, the easiness of the fill meshing with that of the theme. One could make a case that MACCHIATOS is tough to spell correctly, but Wednesday solvers will likely have encountered HEP and LOA many times before, so there's little ambiguity.

Similar for ELIE — his letters are so constructor-friendly that he's in crosswords all the time — crossing BARBARELLA.

I enjoyed Byron's use of VELVEETA, that all-American goop that tastes so darn good even though I know it's SOLEMNLY killing me.

TIRED BLOOD is a bit of an odd entry — usually that phrase is used in clues for anemia, not the other way around — but it's figure-out-able.

Overall, not a completely bang-on theme set, but the ultra-low word count, featuring bonuses pitched at the difficulty level of the theme, helped elevate my solve. It's a rare case that the 72-word themed puzzle is a wise decision, but bravo to Byron for his success today.

I appreciate Byron's efforts to add extra layers to make his "hidden words" puzzle stand out. (Will Shortz said earlier this year he's taking fewer crosswords within this genre because he has too many on file, and they've become overdone.) Did you notice that not only is REC contained in the theme phrases, but that it's in the exact center? Thus, REC CENTER?

Byron loves working with tough grid arrangements, and this one is no exception. A backbone of four interlocking 15s, with two 9s further rigidifying the grid? Talk about audacious!

He mostly pulled it off, too, escaping with some EMBAR here, GINO TPK LPS there. Note that virtually all the dabs are around or near crossing theme answers — not a coincidence. It's a reasonable set of trade-offs for the innovative themer layout.

I appreciate all the efforts to elevate the puzzle above the boggy "hidden theme" genre. It wasn't enough to pull it free into memorable-level status, though. Even with the constraint of REC having to be exactly centered, it's such a short word, its letters easy to work with, that it's not that exciting.

Congrats on the century mark, Byron! Laudable demonstration of perseverance and hard work.

The name Byron Walden strikes both awe and fear in the hearts of solvers around the world. Byron is known for his wide-open grids, especially his pooh-poohing of extraneous black squares, making his puzzles some of the most difficult to solve.

Then there's his ability to concoct the most devious of clues. [Share a course, perhaps] has to be GO DUTCH, right? Especially when you have a few letters already in place, the ?O???CH pattern reinforcing your initial thought. Such a clever trap. It might help to remember in the future that Byron is a college prof, so COTEACHing is more in his bailiwick.

Toss in his tendency to be okay with entries some might cock their heads at — AUTODRIVE? ZONAL? AGE TO AGE if you're not religious? — and you'd better be ready for a workout. A WING AND A PRAYER is right!

I was so thankful for that central entry, not simply because it's fantastic, but because it helped me get a critical toehold in so many regions of the puzzle. When you have the obfuscating [Digital access points] pointing away from FINGERTIPS — think of a finger as a "digit" — I'll take any help I can get. Delightful wordplay there, like with its next-door neighbor, IVORY TOWER clued with the repurposed term, "intellectual property."

BREECHING … Jim Horne and I had a lengthy discussion, trying to figure out what [Going from petticoats to pants, once] meant. We think it has to do with graduating to breech pants used as a verb. Even then, it still doesn't click. Hey, it is a Saturday puzzle, and a Walden to boot. Perhaps we shouldn't even have breeched (pun intended) the subject.

Finally, I enjoy the insider touches Byron adds in. To most, cluing ABBA via the song "I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do" wouldn't set off anyone's spidey-sense. It made me appreciate my years of struggling with Byron's puzzles, a nod to one of his most memorable themes.

Answer: Zephyrhills, FL. Out of 498 urbanized areas, that was one of the few names I'd never heard of.

What, you don't know the blockbuster hit game, "Animal Crossing"? It's a silly little thing where you breed rare hybrids, dipping into animal-human crimes against nature that turn dangerous and then try to eat you … I might be thinking of something else.

I'm not much into animal mobile games, but I might play "Doctor Moreau Crossing."

It's fantastic to see a new generation of crossword creators, Byron mentoring his son through the process. I thought it was crazy when 13-year old David Steinberg's baby-faced pic debuted a decade ago. But an eight-year old?

What the …?

It makes my daughter, Tess, seem over the hill at age five. But you better watch out, Harrison, because my son Jake still has five years to catch you!

I'm not sure which kid will take over the Chen family business. One thing's for sure, though — we'll be sure to stick with a normal-ish word count. I like how Byron beat back his usual obsession with ultra-low-word-count grids, allowing Harrison a gentle entry into the pool. Breaking up a grid into doable chunks is the perfect way to get a new constructor into the fold, and those SW and NE corners Harrison did are perfect bite-sized chunks.

I do wonder if Harrison is giving his dad the side-eye, saying WTF (what the frick, of course) is a BIDDY? NOMEN? An ADZ, much less ADZING? Tess/Jake and I might start with something much more within reach of an 8-year old, like a 78-word Tuesday grid.

The theme … the jokes weren't up my alley, but what do you get when you cross 26-Across (ELEPHANT) with 40-Across (RHINO)?

Elephino.

I get a lot of questions from crossword constructors about various NYT crossword records, and boy, do we have data! Today's puzzle ties the record for fewest words in a Sunday 21x21. It's also one of the most "open," (how many white squares don't touch any black squares).

I'm not sure many non-crossword constructors care, though. What's much more important about a Sunday puzzle: how engaging it is, how much entertainment it brings, how possible it is to achieve a victorious finish. I'd be curious to poll solvers to figure out what percentage finished correctly, finished with errors, and gave up in frustration. (I fell into the middle camp.)

I did enjoy some of the long entries — HUNTER GATHERER, EXTRA LARGE PIZZAS, CULT HERO, USAIN BOLT, ZEPPO MARX. I was hoping for more than that, though, given all the long slots available. KENT CIGARETTES, PLANS ON, BELAIRS, ANSWERER / BARTERER, CONGO REDS, etc. felt like potential left on the table.

And the trade-offs. While the grid is incredibly wide-open, as advertised in the title, is that worth ANSWERER / BARTERER / FIZZER, ECURRENCIES ("cryptocurrencies" is much more interesting), toughies like DECOLLETE, LUMIERES, DALIAN crossing SAPID (one of my errors), gluies like BLO ERST ESO HAP STET etc.?

Byron is known for his wide-open grids, eschewing cheater squares (extra black squares that facilitate smoother fill, like the one before ANCHOVY), but several more would have been welcome today.

Sunday themelesses seem like a cop-out, an admission that you're not able to collect enough solid themes to fill your pipeline, but I don't mind one every now and again. If you're going to go that route, though, they ought to feel more doable for the wide solving population. Something less audacious, but more colorful and easier to solve, is a better target, given the wide range of Sunday solvers out there.

★ Huge kudos to Kevin Der and Finn Vigeland for putting together an impromptu online tournament — taking just over a week to do it! Kevin asked if I wanted to be involved, but I sadly had to decline because of two (toddling, loud, attention-seeking, messy, not-staying-away-from-my-computer) reasons. Although I missed out on the live event, I went back and watched parts of the live stream. So entertaining!

In a time when we all so badly need distraction, I salute those that make it happen. Because of that, I was predisposed to like today's puzzle. Then, the flood of fantastic entries and clever clues made it rise head and shoulders above any other puzzle this week.

This grid is a layout all budding themeless constructors should study. All sections are well-connected, making for fine solving flow, and to Byron's point, it's possible to (sort of) subdivide the five regions—the four corners plus the middle—by choosing strategic seed entries.

Once you land on a set of four long intersecting answers (WIFI PASSWORD, STEM PIPELINE, MARSHMALLOWS, HEPPLEWHITE) that test out well, you can work nearly independently on each section. Rigorous testing is critical, though, since some quartets of seed entries will allow for great fill in some corners but will cause trouble in others.

What beautiful entries everywhere. WIFI PASSWORD was my favorite, but every corner contained so much color. COP SHOWS, THEOREMS as those having something to prove, TINY TOON, VERY EASY.

Even better: there were so many clever clues that I stopped counting, amazed at the wealth of riches. Describing TSA as "wanders" — those who use wands — might elicit groans, but for me, it was clue of the year territory.

I can't applaud enough the work that Kevin, Finn, and everyone involved put in. Warms my heart to see such efforts in these trying times.

Appropriate that the black squares form a yin-yang-ish pattern. For every EARWORM, there was an UMBRIEL (dark indeed!) CELESTA balanced by a STRIVER. THE LEFT countered by PAT HAND (a poker term for a hand you'd stand pat on.)

Construction is all about trade-offs.

This is even more the case for themelesses, and low-word-count themelesses take this to the nth degree. Too many long slots were neutral (OVER AGAIN, NONE TOO, GONE ALONG), and too many short slots ugly (TYRE, ORAMA, ONE D) to make this an exciting solve. Still, there's something to be said about giving the best solvers an incredible challenge every once in a while, one with virtually no toeholds anywhere.

If only someone could make a 64-word puzzle exciting, but that's like asking to make a treadmill fun.

Strenuous exercise is good for your health. You might not enjoy it during the workout, but you'll be better off for it in the long run.

Byron's byline = nervous shudder #1. On a Saturday = nervous shudder #2. With an ultra-low word count grid? Things happen in threes! My streak of completed Saturdays felt in great jeopardy.

Thankfully, I've done so many crosswords that 18-D, "___ Bulba" was a gimme, even though I still don't know what it is. (Historical novella, according to Wikipedia.) Amusing how my opinion of this gluey bit has changed over the years. Inelegant, yes, but I appreciated that it helped me gain a toehold. I might not have cracked this wide-open puzzle without it.

Byron tends to let some squinty entries slide, and that's a near necessity for a 58-word puzzle, anyway. See: SENARY. WELTER. TEEN PEOPLE, folded over ten years ago. AVIARIST.

Aren't ADULT MALES usually called "men"? And a FARM PLOW just a "plow"? Both are passable, but neither would win any CrossAwards.

Thankfully, there was enough great material — CRIME BOSS, BINGE EATER, NOBEL PRIZE with a gonzo Roman numeral clue I still can't decide if I love or hate — to keep up my interest.

Ultimately, I prevailed over the puzzle, attaining the same sort of high I get after completing a triathlon. Exhausted, but dammit, I finished!

I hit EDU early on in my solve — seemed like an odd place for a revealer (pointing to the fact that the starts of the themers are names of schools). Gave the game away even before it began.

But wait! This is a Walden. He comes up with some of the most creative ideas in the crossworld. What if … THE ENDS OF THE THEMERS ALSO HAD SOMETHING IN COMMON! There was bound to be a SECOND revealer down at the bottom!

Took me a while to figure out, but here it is: OIL.

Do you see it?

I'll give you a moment.

WESSON is a cooking OIL. When you JOSH, you might be using an OILy tone. BEANS are cooked in OIL. English DUCHESSes often make their money from OIL.

Et voila! Or should I say, et v-OIL-a!

I almost had you, didn't I?

I enjoyed this theme, but the implementation less so. No doubt, stacking long themers — like BROWN AND SERVE and DUKE AND DUCHESS right atop each other — is a construction feat. And there weren't nearly as many compromises as I would have guessed. Just INDS / TUES / RES in that top stack is great work.

But all the machinations to get everything to stack, plus working around six themers, took up so much real estate that there was no room for a well-placed revealer. For a theme like this, you need a revealer, or you risk too many solvers not figuring it out. Saying the a-ha before the puzzle even starts saps away all the fun.

And DRAKE AND JOSH didn't do anything for me — old Nick show that lasted for only four seasons? Why not eliminate it, sticking to five themers, laid out in a more traditional way, with EDU down at the bottom? Or better yet, some sort of SCHOOL revealer. How about running four themers vertically, and finish it off with a flourish using HIGH SCHOOL (get it, the schools would literally be high in the puzzle?) as a revealer?

I did like the "tightness" — amazing that Byron found so many "(school) AND X" phrases. And I appreciate efforts to break out of traditions, as they tend to become ruts. They don't always work, but creative layouts like this do help spur on the evolution of crosswords.

★ False portmanteaus is on my (extremely) long list of theme concepts, but I never could quite figure it out. I even had SKORT along with SKI RESORT, but I couldn't come up with a clever way of cluing it. SKI RESORT as the entry, [Skort?] as the clue didn't seem like it would have produced a good enough a-ha moment.

Byron and Joel are more clever than me.

What a great idea, combining the two to help solvers figure out what was going on. SKI RESORT SKORT as a piece of clothing on the slopes, that's fun!

They did such a nice job of finding enough solid themers to fill out a Sunday, too. I kicked myself that in my own searching, I hadn't found BRADY BUNCH = BRUNCH, BURNING LOG = BLOG, and especially GREY POUPON GROUPON. That last one is a beaut.

Great color in the grid, too. HAUL ASS made me chuckle. NATO SUMMIT, yeah! This math dork loved RISE OVER RUN. Even PAID AD made me stop and think — is there such a thing as a non-paid ad? PEER GROUP, GOJI BERRIES, KIDDERS, RIBEYES, it just went on and on. Even if the theme didn't tickle you, there's plenty of solving entertainment to be had.

As with most Waldenesque constructions, there were a couple of entries that made me cock my head. NONREAL was the one that got me. I know imaginary numbers well, but calling them nonreal seems just ... unreal. It turns out it's a not a non-real dictionary term, but, huh.

(It looks like NONREAL may be replacing "imaginary" in math classes, chalk up one demerit for Jeff. Sigh.)

CORNETTI was another one I didn't know, but it was much more on my wavelength — it was fun to learn. I've gotten unhealthy fascinated by baking shows, and now I want to try my hand at making CORNETTI. I also appreciated that it's related to "cornet," which made me feel like I should have gotten it quicker if I had only thought a little harder.

It wasn't a surprise that this was a low-word-count grid (130, much less than the max 140). Joel and I have discussed this issue a couple of times, and I understand his perspective, that going low helps to introduce freshness. You're forced to not rely on short entries seen all the time in crosswords. But I personally tend to gloss over those shorties, while entries like NONREAL and EX-PARTNER tend to make me pause.

Going to a higher word count would have also allowed for smoothing, getting rid of AKEY, AGRIP, IMRE, etc. Don't get me wrong — this grid is way smoother than an average Sunday grid, even at 130 words — but I have an extremely high bar for these two masters.

That's all super-picky nit-picking, because I do have such astronomically high expectations for these two. Overall, so many great theme entries + strong gridsmanship = POW!

Continuing with my analogy from yesterday, today brings us a daunting dive of deathly difficulty. This 64-word, wide-open grid is not for any but the most experienced of strong-willed sorts. Even attempting something like this requires thousands of hours of work and practice.

A tremendous start, a high spring off the board into the first twisting somersault. SCHLUBBY, YOU DA MAN, a PLEASURE to see! Turning the corner into HEURISTIC, such an interesting word. No BUMMERs so far!

Into the second somersault, completing another twist. Oh! An arm kinks out, and the spin decelerates. ECOCIDAL — a word, but kind of an oddity. SANA, not SANAA? (Rich Norris over at the LAT has asked me to not use SANA anymore.)

But he tightens up in mid-air, adjusting! SITCOMMY, what a delightful adjective! BILLBOARDS, with a brilliant clue, referring to ads getting a lot of (literal) traffic. PET ODORS, so hard to parse that kooky PETOD—start.

Approaching the water. Hold those feet together, Byron! Oh no, excessive angular velocity! REFILM. A BARE APEDOM = water kicking up at entry.

As with scoring in diving, it's so tough (and subjective) to assign a total score to a crossword. I think that both level of difficulty and quality of execution ought to be inputs into the calculation, but some will disagree.

Overall, this judge gives above average marks for the latter. And when the former is taken into account, the multiplied result is a high score. Not a 10 by any means, but it's up there.

Delightful theme! I imagined Keanu's surfer persona shouting RADICAL MOVEMENT! to a classical composer (and eliciting strange stares). Keanu going up to a taxonomist (not a taxidermist, as I first thought) and yelling STELLAR CLASSIFICATION! = hilarious!

I was amazed at how many of these Sam and Byron came up with. I was even more impressed by how they made them non-obvious. The band SMASHING PUMPKINS is super familiar to me, so the tough clue — [Compliment to a vegetable gardener?] — was much appreciated. Every a-ha moment is so much more satisfying when you have to work for it.

Loved the theme. Could have easily gotten the POW! based on my smiles alone. I'm often bored by Sunday puzzles, but this one held my attention the entire way through.

I didn't love the fill though, not nearly as smooth as I would have expected out of these two masters. It wasn't bad by any means — about ten globs of ITA AMO OCTA IMRE AFIG kind of stuff, which is about average for a Sunday — but Sam and Byron are not average constructors.

They fell into the low-word-count trap, which I completely understand. It's fun to take on a ridiculously tough challenge like this. A Sunday 140-word puzzle is hard enough — achieving a great 128-word grid is like painting a masterpiece. While handcuffed. And blindfolded. With just a piece of beige chalk.

I firmly believe it's almost always better to be less ambitious. Stick with fewer pieces of great fill — a couple of ADDERALL, STILETTO, CLIF BAR, DATA LOSS kind of things are good enough — and make the rest of the puzzle elegantly smooth. It'd make for a better solving experience overall. Could have been an outstanding puzzle overall, rather than just above average.

Still, I loved the theme. So joyful and smile-inducing. Even with the problem I had with their gridwork decision, this was in POW! territory.

(Sam and Byron, now that you've both won multiple POW!s, I have to make you work even harder for them!)

Byron is one of the most clever folks around when it comes to wickedly brilliant clues. I appreciate how carefully he picks his seed entries — it's not good enough to have a snazzy phrase if it can't be clued devilishly. CELEBRITY CHEF is a fun marquee. It's elevated to stratospheric heights with the innocent — dare I say childlike? — [Childlike personality?]. That's Julia Child!

And ECONOMIC BOYCOTT repurposes the snappy phrase, "commercial break," to mean an interruption in commercial services. Such spot-on plays with language!

It's a shame that both of these did need the giveaway question mark, but they were so outstanding that I didn't mind.

Byron does tend to gather Jeffsquints for his entries, though. I did wonder if CELEBRITY CHEF was a valid phrase at first. Some Googling made it seem more than fine, but does this open the doors to CELEBRITY ANIMAL TRAINER? CELEBRITY CLOWN?

Hmm, I say. Hmm.

And ECONOMIC BOYCOTT gave me the same first impression. "Boycott" by itself, yes. "Sanctions," yes. Again, Google says that I don't know what I'm talking about (as do many others) — the full term is in many headlines. Still, it's not something I'd strive to seed a themeless with.

Some of his clues go over my head; too clever for this schmo. AGENDAS are covered by boards? Hmm, not in a literal sense. In board meetings? Yeah … sort of. I finally figured out that was referring to how the board of directors usually puts together an agenda in a board meeting. But it's usually the board chairperson who assembles the agenda. At the very least, this clue needed that question mark — without it, it doesn't quite work.

I don't mind some IMA AME SEENO crossword glue when it's in service of a wide-open 66-word grid. Solid gridwork.

This puzzle didn't have quite enough snazzy material for me to put it into POW! consideration, but it worked pretty darn well. Super tough to build around extra-long marquee answers in a 66-word grid, so Byron did a nice job.

Big ol' white spaces, a Byron Walden special! He and Mark Diehl are two of the few constructors that regularly delve into this territory, using few or no extra black ("cheater") squares. I always look forward to their work — with a healthy dose of fear, wondering if I'll be able to complete the puzzle.

With Byron's low-word-count themelesses, I often find myself playing a role akin to the line judge in tennis:

• CHINA SHOP, cleverly hinted at by "bull market" — IN!
• NOSE SPRAY. "Nasal spray," more commonly, yeah? It does seem to be a real term though ... ON THE LINE!
• MOTTLERS — OUT! A roll-your-own -ERS addition. Well, wait. Let's go to replay. Apparently, a MOTTLER is a real type of paintbrush? Seems to only show up on art websites, but it does appear to be legit. Ruling overturned. IN!
• The LOVE BOAT, IN! I can't believe my parents let me watch this when I was seven.
• CLEVER DICK … in? I mean, IN! Authoritatively! (running to Wikipedia) Yes, IN! This is a real term. (Apparently.)
• GOPER — OUT! Took me forever to parse this as GOP'er. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. This entry hit someone in the stands in the face, right in the EMPTY EYES.
• EMPTY EYES … in? Out? Let's look the other way.
• LESSEPS? MEAN GENE? This line judge likes explorers and LOVES — I mean LOVED, ahem — pro wrestling. Unfamiliar. But definitely IN!
• YES INDEEDY, that's an ACE! My favorite entry of the puzzle.

Line judge ended the match mostly happy.

I appreciate how much care Byron takes to avoid short crossword glue. With low word-count puzzles though, there are almost always compromises, and some of his longer material suffered. Still, mostly a winner, if after a lot of back and forth.

How to describe this theme? There's a letter-adding progression of IN, SIN, SING, STING, STRING, STARING, STARTING, STARTLING … with each word shifted down one phrase for kooky results? Instead of "sing in the shower," we get STING IN THE SHOWER.

It's pretty impressive that every word in this letter-add sequence can be part of a real phrase. Not an easy task — I once tried to build a BEARD growth puzzle with Ian Livengood, but it was so tough to find good phrases. A BEAR, you might say.

(groan)

The theme didn't do much for me — the notion dragged on too far. The constructor in me was much more interested in the findings than the solver, who got tired of it.

Very nice gridwork! I didn't notice much crossword glue at all, so it was a huge surprise to see the word count at a low low 132. So few constructors can pull this off. If I were the grid police, Byron would be one of the few people I'd issue a license for sub-140 wording.

To get such nice entries in EBENEZER SCROOGE and PROBLEM SECTIONS (I'm a math dork, so sue me), each running through three themers is great stuff. And TEA TIMES, LION TAMING, THE PIANIST, CAT DOOR — that's the way to make the most out of your long slots!

And that clue for TEA TIMES! [Pauses for service] made me think about a tennis server taking a moment to gather his/her strategy before firing. TEA service is much different. (Although it's fun to imagine a TEA SERVICE service at Wimbledon, with one hand on a racket and the other holding a teacup, with pinky extended.)

Unusual for me to get through an average Sunday puzzle, without slogging through at least 10 dabs of crossword glue, of the ALIS, ENDE, SEP variety. To give me a smooth solve in a colorful, 132-word grid? Fantastic craftsmanship.

Unfortunately, a great grid doesn't cover up a theme that doesn't hold one's attention. Probably would have been better if downsized into a four-themer weekday grid.

Sam and Byron challenge themselves with an ultra-low word-count themeless! I've done enough of Byron's puzzles that I have a sense for what to expect: I tend to love a lot of his new, avant-garde entries, but I also squint at some of them. As soon as I saw how wide-open this grid was, I had a feeling I'd get some of both.

In particular, it's so hard to turn a corner like in the NW, with six long entries interlocking. The first triple is really good, especially considering the level of difficulty — HALL PASS / OLIGARCH / PIBB XTRA is a colorful bunch, even without the fun toilet humor in the HALL PASS clue. Great work, Sam!

ALICE FAYE … huh. She does appear to be a person. LIBERATES … not bad.

But then, LGBT RIGHTS! Elevated LIBERATES right next to it for me. I struggled with the entry at first, since "gay rights" is what I usually hear around Seattle, but LGBT RIGHTS is in high usage over at the ACLU's website. Nice debut.

It wasn't until I got to HAND EYE that I truly hitched. No, wait … EYE HAND? HAND EYE is so-so since it isn't usually seen without "coordination," making it feel partialish. And EYE HAND ...

(squinting at Sam)

COOKED KALE … I try to eat healthy. I eat a ton of kale. (Much to my wife's chagrin, after the fact. Ahem.) Don't think I've ever come across the term COOKED KALE on menus though.

SON OF ADAM, now there was a winner! I wasn't familiar with it, but it rolled off my tongue.

GAPPY … huh.

PAY A FEE … that is "a thing," but is it crossworthy?

TURN RIPE? Double huh. "Ripened," yeah?

I appreciated how much care Sam and Byron took in avoiding the short gluey stuff that's the usual downfall of themeless puzzles — OTB, EES. I would have happily taken a bit more of it though if that had allowed them to remove some of the squinty stuff mentioned above.

That said, I enjoyed the 64-word solving challenge, and there was more than enough KETEL ONE / HUNG OVER / STAGGERED (ha!), AREA CODE MAP, SPICE RACK kind of stuff to spice things up.

Low 66 word-count offering from Byron, a toughie to fill, especially in those giant NW / SE corners. It's tricky enough to get both color and cleanliness in a triple-stack of long entries, but it's so much harder in a quad-stack. I thought the NW came out particularly well, HELLSCAPE / AXIOMATIC / IDA LUPINO / GARAGE SALES pretty darn good. EX DA felt arbitrary — what's next, EX TSA or EX ESQ? — but no other crossword glue required.

I didn't like the SE as much. If you're going to need REPORTAGE to make it work, I'd prefer to stick a black square maybe at the T of REPORTAGE, and squeeze more snazz out of the remaining three long slots. ADULATION is a fine entry, as is BEE SEASON, but they're not nearly as snappy as PSYCHODRAMA to me.

Going up to 68 words could have helped the puzzle in another way, by increasing flexibility to get rid of a couple of iffy mid-length answers. OSTERIA … hmm. It is in the dictionary, and it probably will be apparent to foodies or European travelers. ON THE UP … double hmm. Maybe that's more common to Brits, but this is the New York Times, not the London Times, by gum!

A constructor's tip: see that black plus sign in the middle of the grid? Makes it so much easier to construct a low word-count puzzle like this. There's something about the way the plus sign breaks up the middle that allows constructors to breathe more easily. It's kind of like how cheater squares help along the perimeter of a puzzle, but the visual effect isn't as noticeable as a pair of cheaters, at least to me. Trick of the trade.

Great clue for EPEEIST — not a touch-phobic person, but a swordsperson who loses points per enemy touch. Love the innocent-seeming misdirect; no telltale question mark needed.

And hand up for the KENNEDY ERA trap. Beautiful!

Overall, a pretty good low(ish) word count puzzle. A couple of great feature entries, very little crossword glue, and mostly fine fill otherwise. Would have been interesting to see if Byron could have caught by POW! by revising it into a 68-worder.