Words that aren’t as helpful as they seem
In most crosswords, you know to be on your guard when solving a clue with a question mark at the end. The words that precede that question mark often have a natural feel. And the more conversational, the more apparently friendly a clue is, the greater the chance that the constructor means something very far from what he or she appears to be saying.
English is a language that abounds in ambiguity, and crosswording is a language that exploits this haziness. A few examples:
Words that end with ER: When you see the word “number,” you naturally assume that it’s doing the same job it always does: depicting ONE, say, or TEN, or even, as part of some wordplay, PI. But in the clue “Number of people in the theater?,” you’re looking for someone who does the numbing: an ANESTHESIOLOGIST. Likewise, a letter can be a landlady, a tower a horse, a sewer a seamstress—and a flower is so often a river in crosswords that seasoned solvers get tripped up when the word is actually used to mean a piece of flora.
Words that begin with DE: “Detailed,” you tend to assume, means comprehensive, meticulous, blow-by-blow. But “Detailed by the farmer’s wife?” equally fairly describes the THREEBLINDMICE. See also: “decrease” (iron), “delight” (extinguish), and “defile” (remove from the cabinet).
Words that are pronounced differently to how they appear: Outside of crosswords, something “wicked” is amoral, heinous, or abominable. But “Supporter of wicked things?” is, you have to admit, an accurate description of a CANDLESTICK. Try reading each of these aloud in your mind and see how they offer two options: “minute,” “pate,” “multiply,” “wound,” “drawer,” “refuse,” “sow,” “console.”
Misleading names: When you see the word “Nancy,” your mind cycles through the options—from Sinatra to Pelosi, from Mitford to Drew. But “Nancy’s breakfast?” is a way of saying “what they call breakfast in the French city Nancy,” and so you might be expected to be thinking PETITDEJEUNER. Other words that may or may not be names—depending sometimes on the presence or otherwise of a capital—include “Job,” “Pole,” “Lent,” “Mass,” and of course “March,” “May,” and “August.”
If you get tripped up by any of these, don’t get frustrated: Think of it as a kind of friendly pun-ishment.
(And then there are those words that the seasoned solver comes to greet as longtime acquaintances . . .)