Wordle: Feh.

I really don’t like Wordle. I was going to write, “I hate Wordle,” but that seemed excessive. It’s only a word game after all.

For perspective, I love Spelling Bee. Well, that’s excessive too. I don’t actually love it, it’s more that I have—hmm—a dependency on Spelling Bee. 

There are two reasons for my extreme dislike of Wordle. The first is that it’s dumb and the second is that I’m terrible at it. Or maybe in reverse order. What you need to know is, I, a historically wordy person, have a lot of trouble with this stupid game. 

It has happened that I’ve gotten the Wordle word on the second or third try, but, trust me, that’s just luck. (And all you other people out there bragging about your prowess at this, or worse, kvelling about your children’s vast skills at this game—getting the word on the second try is just luck.)

The online repartee about which word to start with is pretty nonsensical because IT REALLY DOESN’T MATTER. At least, it doesn’t matter to me.

However, once I have a handful of letters to work with and I should be able to figure out the word, I get stuck. My mind goes blank. My internal dictionary vanishes and I can’t think of a damn word—not even an incorrect word. Nothing. 

I have decided to attribute this to a previously mostly latent learning disability. Something about the format stops my brain from forming words. It might be the combination of fixed letters, “loose” letters and then all those choices at the bottom.

The phrase, “words fail me” has new meaning in my life.

I’m a pretty solid genius in Spelling Bee and even occasional royalty. Once I figured out what they want, that oddity called “Tiles” is doable, as is the crossword puzzle but Wordle is impossible and boring. It’s also too short. 

Wordle fails me. ❏

Jane Barowitz lives mostly in Manhattan and sometimes in Maine.