Wordle-style daily puzzles and more — find every word, untangle anagrams, group the hidden links, race the clock. Free, in your browser.
If your morning already includes a daily word puzzle, you will feel at home here. Spell out every word hidden in a honeycomb of letters in Speller, untangle scrambles in Anagram Rush, or find the hidden groups in Connections.
The puzzles run on a real dictionary, so the words you find are words that count — and they reward a wide vocabulary and a sharp eye more than raw speed. Type Blitz is the exception, where speed is the whole point.
A new word puzzle lands every day, the same one for everyone, which is what makes it such a natural thing to compare with a friend.
There are really two families on this page, and they reward opposite temperaments. The speed games want your hands: Type Blitz and Anagram Rush punish hesitation, and in both cases the clock is the opponent. The construction games want your stillness. Word Hunt looks like a race but is scored so it isn't one — a four-letter bonus word pays 80 points, a five pays 120, a six-or-longer pays 175, so one good long trace beats a fistful of short ones. Connections ZAP has no clock at all; it just has four groups of four and a very small budget for being wrong. If you swipe fast on Word Hunt or submit your first obvious group on Connections, the scoring is quietly telling you that you have the wrong instinct.
What none of that shows you is the part I spent most of my time on: the word list. Speller ZAP shipped with roughly thirty thousand words of four to eight letters — and a tail of exactly twenty-five words longer than that. Which meant that on a game whose validator had no upper length limit, nearly every nine-letter word a good player might find was simply not in there. Lightning was not in there. So the repair had to be done by filter rather than by pasting in a bigger dictionary: candidates were checked for spelling validity against a 370,000-word list, then against a frequency band, then against whether they could actually be built on one of the game's forty-eight letter hives. Twelve thousand eight hundred and eighty-five candidates survived the first two tests. One hundred and eighty-six survived the third.
That third filter is also my answer to the thing that makes word games feel unfair: the obscure-but-technically-valid word. A second pass added 251 everyday words the list had never had, and the screen for them was deliberately strict — a real dictionary check to reject web-corpus junk like abbr and natl, a spoken-frequency cutoff to ask whether people say the word out loud, and then a hand review of all 394 finalists in which I rejected 143 of them as proper nouns, foreign loans, archaisms, or words that exist only in tournament Scrabble. A separate audit pulled 134 tokens out of the shipping dictionary entirely.
The architecture underneath is an asymmetry I'd defend anywhere. Anagram Rush keeps two lists: a wide one that validates whatever you type, and a narrow curated pool that chooses the word you're actually asked to unscramble. The validation list happily contains things like abacas and abamps. The pool that sets your puzzle contains absent, absorb, accent. Be generous when the player is right; be conservative when the game speaks first.
Start with Speller ZAP if you want the house standard, Word Hunt if you like boards, Connections if you'd rather deduce than sprint.