Charlotte Latvala: What's another word for crossword addicted?
I looked over at my husband, who was deep into an episode of “Stranger Things.”
“What’s a five-letter word for ‘expels by force?’ Or a three-letter word for ‘soft slip-on?’”
He didn’t break eye contact with the television. “Why are you asking?”
“You know why I’m asking.”
“Because you’re addicted.”
Well, that’s a bit strong. I think it would be more accurate to say I have a newfound, er, four-letter word that begins with “L” and ends with “E” for crossword puzzles.
Here’s what happened. Earlier this year, I got hooked on Wordle, which is apparently the new gateway drug to the hard stuff.
After some months, Wordle became, um, not easy per se, but not exactly challenging. At least, not challenging in the right way. It’s basically a game of luck that hinges on picking the right first word. There’s no “Ah, I see now!” or “Oh, I didn’t know what that word meant” or “Hey — a double meaning!” It’s left me feeling oddly deflated instead of triumphant, even when I solve it in a few guesses.
And a couple of weeks ago, I happened to pick up the most recent issue of Playbill (yes, we’re a musical theatre family) and randomly opened it to a crossword puzzle. It was packed with clues like “Uses a razor, like Sweeney Todd (at first)” and “Broadway backdrop.”
So I bit. To my surprise, it was fun. And just the right amount of challenging.
And weirdly, I wanted more.
Weirdly, because I’ve always been the sort of person who disliked crossword puzzles. Because:
a). As a writer, I felt like they should be easy for me. And they’re not.
b). I always associate crossword puzzles with — there’s no other way to say it — fuddy-duddy old people. “Working a crossword” was right up there with binge-watching “Murder, She Wrote” and re-using sandwich bags. And even though I turned 60 on my last birthday, I’m 27 in my mind, so I’m pretty sure I’m still in the no-crosswords demographic.
c). Am I the sort of person who has all kinds of time to waste doing crossword puzzles?
Well, apparently I am. Because after Playbill got me hooked, I downloaded a bunch of newspaper puzzles. (Not the scary intimidating ones from a certain New York paper, but some softer gentler ones from the hinterlands.)
I enjoyed the wordplay, the oddball references. I felt a thrill when some arcane bit of trivia from the deep folds of my brain enabled me to guess a word correctly.
And just like that — I couldn’t stop. My daughter bought me a book of puzzles from the drugstore, and now I’m the kind of person who chews a worn pencil and mumbles about Great Lakes states. I bug my husband with questions about Asian rivers and 1970s heavy metal drummers and working dog breeds.
I am officially a six-letter word for “Fish, sometimes.”
Hooked. But humble. Because I’m still not very good at crossword puzzles.
Charlotte is a columnist for The Times. You can reach her at charlottelatvala@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on Beaver County Times: Latvala: What's another word for crossword addicted?
