The Tradeoffs Nobody Tells You About Odd Pieces Puzzles

I'm immediately suspicious of any puzzle ad that says a puzzle will change my life. Impossible to put down. You'll lose sleep. Regular puzzles will feel pointless forever. Possibly fixes your marriage.

Come on.

I like Odd Pieces. I've done four of them. I also think you're much more likely to like one if you know what you're actually signing up for, instead of expecting a cardboard box to deliver a Netflix finale.

Here's the trick, in case you've somehow missed the ads: the picture on the box is not what you build. You build the same scene about 15 seconds later. There's a comic inside that sets up the story, a checklist of hidden clues, and a sealed orange envelope you're not supposed to open until you're done.

It's a great idea. It also comes with some tradeoffs.

So here they are.

~ the six tradeoffs ~

#01 If one of you is the puzzler, the other one is the audience.

I'm not good at puzzles. My husband is.

With the box only half helpful, I lasted about twenty minutes before he was doing the real work and I was on the couch with a glass of wine, reading the comic out loud and calling out hidden jokes as they appeared.

The tradeoff: I didn't build it. If placing the last piece is your favorite part, and you're the weaker puzzler in the house, you may end up watching more than building.

But I was there for every "wait, why is the dog holding that?" And I'm the one who opened the envelope.

#02 The box helps with the setting. It won't help with the people.

I did what I always do: edges first, then match faces to the box. Except the guy who was standing at the counter on the box was halfway across the room in my puzzle, and very much not standing anymore. I spent twenty minutes looking for a face that wasn't where it was supposed to be.

That's the whole design. The buildings, the background and the big blocks of color carry over from the box, so the edges-and-background part works the way it always has. The characters have moved, run, fallen over or caused some kind of disaster. Every one of them.

The tradeoff: it's harder than a regular 1,000-piece puzzle, because your usual crutch only works on half the picture.

And honestly, that's the fun. Once it clicked, I stopped matching and started guessing. Why is everyone looking over there? Who is that running from?

Shop Odd Pieces puzzles »

#03 It's still 1,000 pieces. It will take your table.

This sounds obvious written out. It was not obvious to me when I read "one very good evening" in an ad.

The finished puzzle is about 20 x 28 inches. We started on a Friday. By Tuesday we were eating dinner on the couch because the dining table was covered in half-finished chaos, and my kid asked whether we were ever getting it back.

The twist doesn't arrive halfway through to keep you going. It arrives when the last piece goes in. With four people around a table, that's an afternoon or a long evening. One person working alone is looking at days.

The tradeoff: the payoff is real, and you earn it.

#04 The ending is a punchline, not a movie twist.

Some of the ads promise a jaw-dropping twist. I'd describe it differently.

It's the same scene a few seconds later, mid-catastrophe, and the moment it comes together you laugh out loud. It's a sight gag the size of your dining table. It is not a murder mystery, and nobody is going to be unmasked.

The tradeoff: if you go in expecting a thriller, you might feel let down. If you go in expecting a really good joke that took 1,000 pieces to tell, you'll love it.

#05 The clues can stump you. The answers are right there in the box.

Each puzzle comes with a checklist of hidden clues to find as you build, plus a final riddle. Some of them are genuinely hard.

Around piece 700 I was stuck on the last clue, and the orange envelope sitting on the counter was taunting me. My sister opened it. We are still not fully speaking.

That isn't a flaw in the puzzle. It's me telling you something the box only hints at: the answer key lives in the orange WARNING envelope, along with the comic that finishes the story. Decide before you start whether anyone is allowed to peek.

You're welcome.

#06 You only get the surprise once.

When the last piece went in, I laughed. Then I realized I can never have that moment with this puzzle again.

It's a mystery novel. Once you know the ending, you know the ending. I'd also already told my mom what happens before she started hers. Do not be me.

The tradeoff: if you're someone who redoes favorite puzzles, this one won't hit the same way the second time.

If you're giving one as a gift, hand over the sealed box and say nothing. Don't show them the finished picture. Don't hint.

Pick out an Odd Pieces puzzle »

~ so, is Odd Pieces actually worth it? ~

I think the better question is, what kind of night do you want?

If you want a hard puzzle, start with Beyond the Kelp. The site tags it Hard, and it is: watercolor, lots of the same blues.

If you want an easier first one, Snack Attack, Glitch, Silver Lining and Time Keepers are all tagged Easy.

If 1,000 pieces sounds like a lot, start with a Mini.

If you're buying for a couple where only one of you puzzles, buy it anyway, and put the comic in the other person's hands.

That isn't a weakness in the puzzles. It's actually why I trust them more.

Because the honest answer is that no puzzle can be calm, surprising, quick and worth redoing all at once. Odd Pieces picked surprising.

And I would much rather know that before I've given up my dining table for a week.