I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of “constrained writing.” I once wrote a comics story where every page had to begin with the letter Q, and I wrote another where all the visuals were only location shots, with no visible characters, until the last page. Some of the best ideas come from having to work around roadblocks. What can we achieve by giving ourselves new constraints? Or different constraints? Green Eggs and Ham was written using only 50 words.
On a macro level, the whole Ubercross project is about transcending the usual constraints. Crosswords are normally no bigger than 21x21 squares, and 15x15 is still a standard size: anything smaller gets labeled a “mini” or “midi.”
Adding a new constraint to something that’s made to be unconstrained may seem like a contradiction in terms, but it’s really no different than writing an epic-length poem in verse or directing a long movie that fits the constraints of its genre. And in a sense, all crossword design is constrained writing. You can put anything you want in a grid when you’re starting out, but then you have to put in other stuff that crosses it.
Comics, my other big love, are constrained too. Some forms are more constrained than others—a graphic novel’s much bigger than a comic strip. But no matter what, you’re limited by how many words will fit into your bubbles and the size of your format. (Even “infinite canvas” comics are limited by the size of their screens.)
With art, we can choose to do anything. And so what we choose not to do can be as much of a statement as what we do. With the Ubercross, I wanted to explore as much variety in the language as I could manage. I thought that by spotlighting the e-less “minority” of words and phrases, I could tease out more of the language’s variety, and therefore its wonder and beauty.
Did it work? I guess we’ll see!