Emily Carroll author page

A couple of years ago, a teenager I've been mentoring asked me WHAT'S POPPIN'. Wondering if he was telling me he wanted to get popcorn or if he was calling me pops, I figured it'd be best to pretend like I knew what he was talking about and say something that sounded equally fresh. Whatever it was, he burst out laughing so hard he nearly choked.

No CHAMPAGNE BOTTLEs for me.

Now that I know what it means, I can appreciate the literal answers to the question. I especially enjoyed the final entry since popping a WHEELIE slightly differs from the others. Although the meaning of "pop" doesn't change much, it was neat to see the range of objects affected.

Except for the PIMPLES. Where's the "unsee" button when you need it?

Thankfully, that was the only blemish in my entire solve. CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE so tidily spans the grid, not forcing any black square placements, and PIMPLES / WHEELIE are easy enough to tuck in most anywhere that there's no need for grid Clearasil. Solid work, incorporating a couple of THREEPIO PARMESAN bonuses while avoiding short acne.

The grid is so clean that I'd love to see what Emily could do if she removed the black square between OPIUM and PANEL to allow for another pair of long bonuses. It's almost always better to offer a smooth Monday fill than a colorful yet crunchy one, but this set of themers should allow for four long Down bonuses.

Inclusion of PIMPLES aside, I admired the creative lateral thinking playing on the fresh phrase (that no one will use anymore, now that I'm saying it).

It seems apt that JUICE, PRESS, and SQUEEZE can all precede the word BOX. I swear upon all that is holy that I will wreak my revenge on the inventor of the JUICE BOX. If I had a nickel every time my kids pressed and squeezed one to explode a food-colored, sugar-loaded fountain of disaster …

Time to get off my SOAPBOX (and get the SOAP to clean up the mess).

As far as "both words can precede" themes go, this one is solid, avoiding the usual knocks on this genre:

• All themer halves are recognizable as types of BOXES. Perhaps people who aren't fans of The Who or accordions might not click with SQUEEZEBOX, but it's legit.
• The themers are colorful. I can often tell when this genre is coming since the themers tend to be dry at best. Not today.
• Excellent revealer. FUSE two types of BOXES together = spot-on.

Solvers antsy with this genre will appreciate sitting back with a HOT TODDY. ANTSIEST isn't the most soothing of bonuses, but I enjoyed much of DENZEL, BLUE JAY, POODLES.

Working with a central 11 is so rough — it often creates situations where Down fill has to work through three themers. PESETA might be tough for newbs, and DOES SO does so little.

AREOLAS would be much more familiar if the NYT were less uptight.

A long time ago, a friend and I tried to take "both words can precede X" to the next level, but it was received with mixed reactions. I'd love to see different ideas that might help breathe more life into this well-worn genre.

Dozens of people have approached me with various PLAY concepts: double play, Coldplay, underplay, overplay, play money, play by the book — so many plays on words! Hey, plays on words = crossword radar pinging …

Great rebus rationale today, the sportsball term SQUEEZE PLAY interpreted as "squeeze a play into a single square."

Wait. Are these plays? Or musicals? Are musicals plays? Of course, they can be, Jeff! Who are you to play God? Bringing musicals into play is fair play.

Note to self: is there a play about a World's Fair?

T(HAI R)ESTAURANT is a textbook rebus themer. No splitting hairs about splitting HAIR across the two words of the phrase, hiding that strand in your pad see ew.

Eew.

CURB YOU(R ENT)HUSIASM is solid, too. RENT is broken across two words, and Larry David and JB Smoove still make me laugh after all these years. Will Shortz would often ding a rebus themer like this because CURB doesn't contain any of the rebus entries, but that doesn't matter to all editors.

EVITA in LEVITATE / INEVITABLE isn't as strong since it doesn't span two words. Perhaps a dose of the SUNSHIN(E VITA)MIN could have helped. CATS across CAT SCAN is better, but it's not as surprising as the others, and shorties get lost in the shuffle. Something like WILD(CAT S)TRIKE would have struck thunderous applause.

Solid rebus overall, though, with some great finds and not many short fill missed cues.

"First words are related" themes are approaching six feet under — something like SCARE ___, DOOM ___, DEAD ___ wouldn't fly on its own these days — but Emily gives us a great example of doing something extra to make hers rise from the grave. Note that QUOTES, SCROLLS, and LETTERS are all things that can be written! It's so clever to use GHOST WRITER to elevate this concept.

Such a fresh entry in DOOMSCROLLS, too. I first heard it when exchanging emails with a friend during the pandemic, and it went on my list of great phrases to incorporate into a crossword roughly a microsecond after he used it.

Look at those four beautiful long Downs, spaced out perfectly. IN ANY CASE / NOT UP TO IT / STEPSTOOL / HARPER LEE, alternated down-up-down-up, echoing the left-right-left-right pattern of the Across themers. This is ideal spacing that keeps the door open for super-smooth fill.

However, given four long themers and four long bonuses, you'll usually have to make some trade-offs to avoid any short fill glue. Emily's bonuses are so stellar that it'd be hard to force yourself to try other entries in those slots. As a result, a couple of spots will likely trip up my newb crossword friends down the street. More frequent solvers will drop in SHOD / OVID right away, and even SHAQ / HODOR. Throw in ERSE / ATHOS, IMAM / MES, even ASTOR / SNOOT … it might feel more trick than treat.

Such a great theme. A shame that Halloween didn't fall on a Tuesday or Wednesday this year, when some of the more challenging fill would have been more in line with solving expectations.

BAD BUNNY is hopping mad for not being included! You might even say he's inclined to get all tilted about it.

(You're surprised I know of Bad Bunny because I'm such a nerd? Ha! I heard about him because he landed a role as … a dorky comic supervillain. Ahem.)

Neat that Emily found a limited set to work with, including most everything that fits the "___ BUNNY" pattern. I'd have given bonus points for the CHOCOLATE BUNNY I stole from my kids at Easter, blaming Santa Claus for the theft.

Hey, if you're going to lie to your kids about imaginary delivery beings, anyway … it's a slippery SLOPE.

Will Shortz has said he's taking fewer of these "triple-checked" puzzles (the E at 6-Across has to work with EATS, ECO, and ENERGIZER), partially because they force too many compromises in the fill. Emily did a solid job around most of her SLOPEd entries, wisely using her black squares to separate regions. The bottom left corner is so smooth, with even a BOASTFUL to boast about.

RUHR / ESSO and OGEE / STEROL are tough pills for newer solvers to solve, though. In these types of puzzles, I'd be fine allowing constructors to go to 80 words, helping to smooth out some of these inelegances.

I would have liked the revealer to come much later instead of giving away the game before it hardly began, but the overall concept was solid. The fact that the set is tight helped boost my appreciation, too.

Emily could have had a Constanza moment after presenting [Animal that produces eggs once a year]. I was convinced that it had to be some trait of marsupials or other set of animals I didn't fully understand. It's ... the EASTER BUNNY?

Emily: That's it for me!

The rest of the puzzle was icing. I can't remember being so utterly delighted by a clue/answer pair in months.

But wait, there's more! [One helping you find a cab?] — I knew there was something fishy going on because of the question mark. Still, I got a huge smile when I figured out it was a cab(ernet).

EARGASM is such a funny word. It was just a few years ago that Will Shortz told me he'd never use DROP THE F BOMB in a crossword, and today we've hit a climax. So to speak.

I didn't get two clues at first. I had to piece together HABITAT letter by letter, because it didn't seem to match [Element]. If you still don't get it, think about "out of one's element."

SIRS tricked me in a different way, as I was sure the "old-fashioned" hinted at "Maleskan crosswordese" so must be DIRK (a type of knife). I'm still not sure why SIRS is a letter opener, not "Dear SIRS," but I was at the tail end of the letter-writing generation, so definitely no expert.

I appreciate that Emily pushed her envelope, dipping into 68-word territory, not an easy task. There was a good amount of ALTE ENT RES SMEE TES that bogged me down — not uncommon, given all those common letters so useful for themeless constructors.

Overall, though, a solid construction with a bevy of fantastic long entries, Muhammad Ali the TRASH TALKER, the colloquial CAN IT WAIT, a fresh CONTENT FARM, and PET STORES with a funny clue. My daughter asked if she could try a dog biscuit the other day. I'm sure a good parent would have said no.

★ "My Violent Evil Monster Just Scared Us Nuts"? I had M____VI?ES in place — MONSTER MOVIES! No, that's not long enough. MONSTERRRRRR MOVIES, said in a zombie drawl?

Wait. It starts with MN? Clearly, I had something wrong. D'oh! MNEMONIC DEVICES. It's a fantastic entry/clue on so many levels, but best of all, I'll remember the order of planets much more strongly now. I could never remember the usual planets device, My Very Educated Mother … Jubilantly … Spewed Up Nincompoopery?

Apparently, you don't know my mother.

Two more grid-spanning entries to boot? STICKY SITUATIONS is solid, and SO ITS COME TO THIS is wildly amazing. Can't you just visualize someone giving you the stink-eye while wryly grumbling that phrase?

Oh, so you do know my mother.

Themeless constructors rarely start with so many grid-spanning entries because they quickly ossify a grid. You can often use black squares to (sort of) separate the marquee entries, but there will always be regions that lose precious flexibility. I was impressed by what Emily and Eric did in the west region, with ROBOT ARM threaded in so carefully. On the other side, SOLITUDE isn't as snazzy, but it is peaceful. Toss in a GPS UNIT, and I'd call that a success.

As you fix more and more into place, though, rigidity sets in. Once you decide on ROBOT ARM, you're not going to have much choice for something ending in RI. Then, the tops of SO IT COMES and TANDOORI constrain that NW corner. GOES INTO is a fine entry, but it's hardly a marquee 1-Across.

ON GOD felt strange. As with most of Erik's puzzles, I sheepishly go to Twitter and search for that term, as it's usually something the kids say these days. On God, it is!

Maybe.

Overall, the headline entries packed incredible punch, and the supporting material did enough to elevate this product to POW! territory. Well done!

Raise your hand if you think Jim Horne should take over with commentary. I was laughing so hard I nearly spit-took my CAWfee!

Fun start to the week. Emily's FOWL LANGUAGE might make some squawk, but I enjoyed the groaniness of the revealer.

My first reaction to the theme was that there wasn't enough consistency. QUACK stands on its own, PEEP sort of does, and GOBBLE and HONK are part of longer words. I've come to realize, though, that the key issue is whether or not solvers get what's going on. Each of the four sounds is clearly identifiable, so ultimately, who cares about consistency?

Except for us dumb clucks, that is.

I would have liked FOWL LANGUAGE better than USE FOWL LANGUAGE. The former would make gridwork much harder, since a 12-letter revealer forces much AWKwardness, but it's still doable. (AWK is the noise a parrot makes. Sez me.) FOWL LANGUAGE could match with GOBBLEDYGOOK, and you could replace QUACK DOCTORS with something else — that'd be another improvement since most people call bad doctors QUACKS, not QUACK DOCTORS.

While I enjoyed some of the upscale feel of the fill — ALDO Gucci, impressionist paintings set in ARLES, Christina RICCI's films — they made the solve a bit tough, especially when concentrated in one region. It didn't help that CELLOPHANE looked so wrong to this cello player that I had to force myself to buy it.

Along with a few other entries that might trip up newbs — only the crossworld recognizes ONEK (it's always "1-K," and 1-K races are rare) and ECOLES is tough (although my French crosswording friends down the street will love this!) — I would hesitate to give this puzzle to a newer solver.

Overall, though, some fun wordplay. Maybe even worth writing a 140-character message about.

My son often wants me to play with him, in a game I call "Jakearades." It's sort of like charades, except you have the bonus element of having to read the mind of a three-year-old who can't quite express his continually morphing ideas on the rules of the game or lack thereof. It usually ends in tears. And Jake cries, too!

Jim Horne, who grew up in Canada, said the theme mystified him and that he was looking forward to my explanation of this mysterious endeavor leading from IT to COLD to COOL to WARM to HOT to ME. (He didn't know what DUCK DUCK GOOSE was either, eh.) I was going to make up something elaborate, but I'm not sure I could imagine something as kooky as what was going on in today's puzzle.

I like the concept of integrating the game of "finding a hidden object by saying warmer or colder" into a crossword, but combining it with HIDE AND SEEK didn't make sense. Perhaps it's a non-Canadian / non-West Coaster thing?

Jake sometimes hides and then yells, "I'M HIDING IN THE BATHROOM" and then wails when I find him, screaming "YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO FIND ME!" Maybe he's today's target audience.

I did enjoy some elements of the gridwork, though — such goodies as LEGO SET and ITS A JOB helped keep my attention (and helped me ignore EDILE) as I tried in vain to figure out what was going on.

I love it when constructors give an honest critique of their work. So many pat themselves on the back, saying how proud they are of the product, while only paying lip service to the flaws. The ability to step back and objectively point out what one could have done better, pulling no punches, is essential for moving to the next level. Saying "myb" is hard, but important.

Ah, the older generations probably don't know the new slang, "myb." It's a nonsense syllable, pronounced "meeb," which needs to be trilled in an ululating, high-pitched scream, lasting at least five seconds. It's best used as a surprise exclamation, to catch people off guard. Try it out so you can finally be cool, like the young kids!

(It's short for "my bad.")

I enjoyed the crazy letter patterns today. Not only was there the curious -YZIIM- string, but catching all those Zs was anything but sleep-inducing. All those rare letters made Emily's task of producing a smooth Sunday puzzle even harder — plural OZZIES crossing ECKO and LOLZ might have been a killer for some — but it's an interesting trade-off between snazzy and smooth.

Back to MYB, Emily debuted a good handful of entries to the Shortz era. I was on the fence for MYB, since I fear many solvers won't get it, but I loved MD PHD, an audacious joint degree for docs who want to do research. I wasn't so big a fan of STEPA, since instructions are usually given in numbers, not letter steps.

Fantastic clue for GNOME! [Part of a short race] had me fixated on relay races, perhaps the 4x100. GNOME is already a fun entry, and the clue makes it sizzle.

Overall, I enjoyed the overall concept, but it would have been much better in a weekday 15x15 puzzle. Once you get the theme, the EZ/IIs quickly got repetitive; not so easy on the eyes. Moving to a 15x15 grid would have also allowed for a much cleaner, more polished overall product.

If you gave me ?????TIONSHIP and told me to complete those five question marks, a million monkeys typing at a million typewriters would have come up with the right answer faster. I thought, can SITUATIONSHIP possibly be a thing? Turns out, it is! I'm afraid I still don't quite get it ... but perhaps that's the point — neither do the people in said SITUATIONSHIP.

The other marquee answers popped much more strongly for me, BRITISH INVASION not something I'm old enough for, but a cultural phenomenon even this pop music idiot knows. And given my son's fascination with 1) trucks, 2) smashing things, and 3) combining numbers 1 and 2, I'm well versed in the noble art of DEMOLITION DERBY.

ACUPUNCTURE also sang, with its fantastic clue, [Some needlework], misdirecting toward sewing — it had me fooled for the longest time. FASHIONISTA rounded out the set; such an evocative entry. Usually, editors prize multi-word phrases for their color and juice, but ACUPUNCTURE and FASHIONISTA measure up.

A couple of solid mid-length entries to help round out the solving experience: OPEN BAR had another great clue, repurposing "free spirits," as did USB PORT — "Mouse hole," indeed! Toss in a fun word to say in STYMIES, and you can call it just about good.

I did notice a stop-and-start feeling as I solved, though. It felt like there were so many short entries, and indeed, 12 three-letter words + 26 (!) four-letter ones comprised over half of the puzzle's entries — Emily's comments above hit the nail on the head. It's a common problem when you run diagonals of black squares through the middle of a themeless grid. Those diagonals forced so many 4-letter words.

Puzzles featuring a couple of long, marquee answers often require the constructor to make trade-offs, since those entries take up so much real estate. That often comes in the form of gluey short fill (OSO, I see you — oh wait. Is that an OJO I'm thinking of?). Not a problem today, but it would have been great to open up that center to create better solving flow.

A few years ago, Will Shortz put a moratorium on turning puzzles. There are many ways of executing on a turning puzzle — going up, going down, double turns, turns on rebus squares, etc. But ultimately, they all fit into the same classification. I'm glad he's careful to space them out these days.

I liked Emily's interpretation and execution, playing on the juicy phrase, DIVE BAR. It's elegant:

• As Emily pointed out, every grid entry looks normal. SNAILS, GEM, TRANS, ESC, all looks good. Some solvers like to see telltale signs that something is going on — think if PANH had been an across answer (for HANDLE bar.). Finding innocent-looking entries that disguise SNAILS PACE, GEMINI, etc. is much harder.
• The four turned pieces are easily recognized as types of BARs: SPACE bar, MINI bar, SPORTS bar, CROW bar.
• It's a varied set. No SPORTS bar and BIKER bar, or CROW bar and DRAW bar. (What, you don't know what a DRAW bar is? You non-mechanical-engineering infidel!)

Great fill, too. Emily wisely didn't give herself many constraints, just 39 thematic squares, so she had a lot of freedom to zestify the grid. It's not easy to work around turned answers, so LITERATI and OMEGA MAN were great bonuses in the NE.

(I wasn't so sure about ELI ELI, but the clue was descriptive enough that I figured it out.)

Along with ARABIAN SEA, ANTITHESIS, MUSHROOM, IS IT TRUE — and only minimal ATOB TES TUE minor glue — that's a big construction win. I'm sure a ton of iteration was involved.

It's tough for a turning puzzle to wow me these days, but this one's a solid puzzle.

This one felt familiar.

Will rejected mine last year, saying that it didn't quite work for him. I never like getting a rejection, but I can understand, given how competitive it is for weekday puzzle slots. Will receives more submissions than ever, about 125 per week. For seven slots, that makes for a dauntingly low acceptance rate.

However, Sundays have always been the pain point for Will. In the past, he's had assistants comb through the slush pile, first and foremost flagging all Sunday grids. At last reported count, he only had 10 in the queue (most other days of the week it was more like 30-50). I sound like a skipping CD, beating the drum of getting him to try new ways of encouraging more Sunday submissions, especially clever theme ideas that can carry a solver through the big grid without losing interest.

The NYT Sunday crossword competes with other crosswords. Evan Birnholz's Washington Post Sunday crosswords have overall had better themes and much stronger grid execution than the NYT's over the past year. Worse, the NYT Sunday crossword also competes with social media. Netflix. Amazon Prime. As with every business, the NYT Sunday crossword must evolve and improve to compete with people's attention.

Yes, the NYT crossword subscription business has never been better. But complacency is the most common problem for any successful business.

I enjoyed Emily's theme set. I spent dozens of hours brainstorming mine, and LOAFER FURLOUGH never occurred to me. Brilliant find. It's so tricky working with a theme that doesn't allow for any computer-based data-mining assistance. Discovering something like KNEE HIGH HEINIE can feel like a gift of fortune (although I ended up dismissing it way back when, worrying that a saggy butt reference could offend people).

Nice gridwork. OH DEAR ME is a solid bonus, as is SEASLUG, BEGUILE, TRUE DAT, YEAH MAN.

It's not perfect craftsmanship in terms of short fill, but the crossword glue is mostly minor. ESS, HIES, HORS, ICI, LAH, OVI, TSE, UNI are thankfully all ignorable. On the whole, the grid is about average in terms of NYT Sunday quality. Might have benefitted from going to 142 words, allowing some smoothing and a bit more injected into the long slots.

Yet again, today's puzzle ended up feeling like a weekday grid stretched into a Sunday. Emily's initial instinct to do it as a 15x15 was spot-on. As much as I liked many of the finds, concentrating the five best into a 15x15 would have packed more punch.

I applaud Will's effort here, trying to expand his pool of Sunday submissions. Inflating weekday puzzles isn't a great way, though. If I were Will, I'd think about bringing on people like Evan as regular Sunday contributors.

I likely would have made this the POW! if I had understood it.

Sadly, I convinced myself that the theme was "items with a fruit in their name that ironically don't actually contain said fruit." LEMON DROPS don't contain any actual lemon, etc. I chalked it up to being an iffy theme and moved on.

Jeff, Jeff, Jeff.

I know! What a moron! How is it possible to be so oblivious?

Thankfully I asked Jim about it, and he explained the idea. Ah! The puzzle is FRUITLESS because the BANANA SPLIT, the ORANGE PEELS (out), the LEMON DROPS, the GRAPE LEAVES! This becomes a MUCH more interesting idea, one I wouldn't have thought possible. Incredible to discover so many (fruit) + (synonym for leave) phrases.

Perhaps a headline approach would have better overcome my obliviosity:

[SMALL PURPLE WINE INGREDIENT FLIES THE COOP!]

[TART OVAL GOES MISSING!]

The grid felt a little rough around the edges — not surprising given the theme density. Seven (!) slots means a ton of constraints to work around. Sure, some of them like LEMON are short, but that doesn't make the execution that much easier.

AREPAS, wow that's a toughie. LA PLATA too. With some ADM MES OCT ROI RPI TIAS, it didn't feel like a polished product. I might have tried adding a black square at the T or P of TSTRAP — or at both locations — which would have made filling the north and south regions much easier.

A shame that this one went over my head — if I wasn't blogging, I'd have dismissed the cleverosity completely. The longer I think about it, the more I like it.

Emily FLIPPED us THE BIRD today, hiding a reversed HERON, EGRET, and CRANE within themers. Cheeky idea, especially for the NYT!

ENARC within GOLDEN ARCHES = perfect! A long string, spanning the two words of a phrase that most everyone will have heard of = yes yes yes!

TERGE within POLTERGEISTS is a notch lower since one-word theme answers tend to be less interesting than multi-worders. Still, POLTERGEISTS is a neat word, filled with spookiness. I ain't afraid of no POLTERGEISTS!

Okay, I am. I still have trouble opening the fridge door at night.

NOREH within PIANO REHEARSAL … I like that it spans a two-word answer. That answer seems a touch arbitrary, though. Would GUITAR PRACTICE be acceptable? Or BANJO TUNING? In the service of this theme, PIANO REHEARSAL gets a pass, but I wouldn't be as lenient otherwise.

I had the same hesitation about LOW SNAP. I was so excited to put in BAD SNAP, such a great entry! LOW SNAP is a real thing, but I usually hear "the snap is low."

But I did enjoy ERROR-FREE, TABLE LAMP, CHEAP SHOT, KILL TIME. Four out of four winners!

Ah, those "parallel down" structures, though. It's so tough to fill around two long pieces of bonus fill right next to each other. That lower left corner especially suffered: BYS, SEPTS, ERE. I wouldn't mind this trade-off if you look at the isolated corner, but with other dabs of crossword glue in the puzzle — OPES, TELE, WELLI, etc. — I'd have preferred a less ambitious approach, for a more elegant overall finish.

It's tough to work with a 14-letter revealer since all the theme answers get squished together toward the middle. (The revealer has to go in row 12, instead of row 13 like usual.) I have a feeling pinching POLTERGEISTS and GOLDEN ARCHES one row toward the center might have helped smooth out the grid, but of course, that would have called for a complete redo.

Loved the [Cutting class?] clue for SHOP. It just takes a handful of clever clues like this to make a puzzle shine. And defining PRENUP as a "union agreement" = delightful!

Strong idea and I appreciated the level of difficulty of using all five-letter birds. If the grid had been polished, this could have made POW! consideration.

Four cars rebusized today, with an apt COMPACT CARS revealer. FOR DUMMIES was fantastic, especially since I plunked in DUMMIES right away, and then was stymied by the crossing AF? pattern. Delightful a-ha there.

ROPE LADDER was another great rebus entry. That's the way to get some juice out of your themers!

Unfortunately, OPEL stuck out to me, as I see FORDs, KIAs, AUDIs all the time, but I've only seen an OPEL in crosswords — even back when I was traveling all over the world. I would have much-preferred GMC (EGG MCMUFFIN, YOUNG MC), or even VW (ROE V WADE, UV WAVES). Probably others, too.

No doubt the GMC option would have required longer themer rebus answers, but that would have been nice. I enjoy rebuses the most when they're part of snazzy, long phrases, especially when those phrases are longer than 15 letters — it's so infrequent that you see a 16+ letter crossword entry!

In the past, Will has told me that for rebus puzzles, the longest entries in the grid ought to contain rebuses, and I'm fully on board with that now. PLAUDITS and GAUDIEST are fine words, but they're so short that they pale in comparison to the catchy OPEN AND SHUT and DANCE AROUND.

It also doesn't seem right that the so-so LIMA OHIO is the same length as GAUDIEST / PLAUDITS, and SLOVAKIA.

Fantastic misdirect on the "Casey at the Bat" clue. I struggled mightily to recall who wrote that (Ernest Thayer). Turns out I skimmed the clue too quickly — it's the autobiography of Casey STENGEL. Clever!

[Cellular carrier?] for RNA also shined.

And I appreciated Emily's effort to include bonuses in the fill. DIRT CHEAP, MANDELA, OLD SAWS helped make up for some of the ALII, SEL, ALC kind of crossword glue.

Overall, a solid rebus concept. These days though, the body of rebus work is so large, that new ones have to shine nearly perfectly or innovate to stand out.

★ For early-week puzzles, I like to play the "guess the theme" game. If I can guess it within one or two themers, I usually feel like it's too simple. After uncovering just AF/RAME, I rolled my eyes and said SPLIT LEVEL HOUSE. What a great surprise to have the much more fun HOUSEBROKEN!

Nice to get a humbling Jeff-is-wrong moment once in a while.

(There are a lot of them.)

Something so pretty about those circled letters. Often, circles in puzzles tend to distract me, but I liked these.

Not a lot of sizzling themers, but RAMEN NOODLE and LEXICON were both strong. (READ UP and OLAF aren't going to win any awards. EPOCHAL … huh. It's dictionary supported.)

If Emily had only broken CHALET into CHA/LET, making way for something more interesting, like CAPTCHA … or I GOTCHA!

Speaking of I GOTCHA, I thought Emily shined in her gridwork. URBAN SPRAWL and PENNANT RACE were both fantastic, as were I GOTCHA and SHERMAN, especially working in his "WAR is hell" quote. I even dug THRACE, a throwback to my favorite world history classes.

And then there was the short fill. Great attention to detail! Emily did have a great deal of flexibility, the ___RAN, CH___ patterns having a ton of possibilities, for example. But with so many of them to fill around, many constructors would have ended up with a lot more crossword glue.

Finally, loved that WELSH clue. What a crazy awesome WELSH name, Llwynywermod.

All in all, an excellent Tuesday puzzle, one I'd be happy to recommend to newer solvers. Nothing flashy, but very solid.

Emily SPLITs THE BILL today, using themers with famous Bills at their ends. Fun to get Bill GATES at the ends of GUESSTIMATES, a fun word. (In my engineering days, we'd use that term in front of clients. In private, we'd use WAGs = wild-ass guesses.) Bill HADER was only vaguely familiar, but it only took a quick Googling to refresh my memory of who he is. Some nice finds.

WALL STREET CRASH … I grew up a Niners fan, so I enjoyed seeing Bill WALSH featured. But as a finance guy in a previous career, I didn't care for the reminder of 2008. Too soon!

This is a perfect example of why constructors call 12-letter themers an "awkward length." Typically, a revealer is placed in row 13 of a puzzle, which helps to maximize spacing between all the themers. But that's basically impossible with a 12-letter revealer. If you move SPLIT THE BILL down one row, those black squares on the left of it form two-letter words below. No bueno! It is possible to do this if you make your grid 16 letters wide, but that's a solution that comes with its own challenges.

What's the big deal, row 13 vs. row 12? It's a huge deal! Look at what it forces, just a single row of space separating pairs of themers. Big-time no bueno! It means that you'll have a difficult section in the west (ALERO / PLEX / ALEE), in the east (ADEAR / AEREO, in the middle-top (TIO / oddly spelled out AT AND T), in the middle-bottom (HOC / ETH). So many places of inflexibility mean there's bound to be crossword glue required.

It's possible to swap HOME INVADER and MARX BROTHER, and it's also possible to start GUESSTIMATES to the right side of the puzzle instead of the left. But that's only a few options to try out = very little flexibility.

A couple of nice bonuses in PORSCHES, CAR SEATS, and MAPLE LEAF = DYNAMITE! Much appreciated. I especially liked Emily's effort to include MAPLE LEAF and CANAVERAL, as those across bonuses are typically tough to work in. She did well filling those upper right and lower left corners smoothly.

And love it when a constructor has a sense of humor — sounds like there's a painfully amusing story behind that bad date, Emily!

Debut! Emily uses the four main tastes — BITTER, SALTY, SWEET, SOUR with TASTEMAKERS as a revealer. I hadn't been familiar with that last term until recently, but fashion is one of my many areas of knowledge deficit. I like that Emily repurposed TASTEMAKERS into a completely different sphere — tastes of the tongue, not fashion — to cleverly wrap up the puzzle.

Great to get some colorful bonus fill from a newbie! UP TO SPEED, RUSH WEEK, ONE BY ONE, WARM SPELL are all excellent phrases. Unusual to see four long and strong pieces of fill from a debut constructor. Wisely spreads all of them across the grid so none of it is too constrained; relatively easy to fill around. Good spacing is so key. She even sprinkles in some NEATNIK and POP OFF throughout.

There are some gluey bits here and there, kicking off with ACUT, some FEM, AMBI, IRREG, MSS, APO, etc. It's too much for what I like in a silky-smooth Monday puzzle, but a lot of it is minor offenders that's still accessible to novice solvers. For example, A CUT is a partial, but it's relatively easy for a newer solver to fill in. APO (Army post office) is much tougher — especially crossing SPATES. I can imagine someone debating SMATES, SLATES, SPATES, STATES, etc. (SMATES really ought to be a word!)

I would have also liked some way of hiding those four main tastes a little, as the concept made itself readily apparent after uncovering the first two themers. Not sure if this is possible, but SALTY LANGUAGE (such a great phrase!) does so much a better job hiding the taste meaning of "salty" than SOUR PATCH KIDS, which are overtly sour.

As Emily said, it would have been great to get UMAMI, the "fifth taste," but trying to incorporate that into a phrase is just about impossible. It might have been neat to have it tucked in somewhere, perhaps as the last across answer? As a revealer? Or in the middle of the center column? Not sure.

Some rough patches here and there, but a fun puzzle with a couple of great theme entries, along with bonus fill that exceeded my expectations.