Micro Fiction Challenge: The Spiral-Cut Ham
Posted by David Duhr in 
Discussion question: Using fifty words or fewer, write a short story, scene, aphorism, snippet, etc., that includes the line “The spiral-cut ham was alright.” Write or paste your story into the comments.
It’s been a real minute since we last did a Micro Fiction Challenge.
Actually, it’s been 2,628,000 minutes. Give or take. Five years.
I hope you’ve spent that time practicing!
My writing friend, Drew Nellins Smith, just released his new novel, Wince (ITNA Press). It’s *such* a fun and colorful book, and I recommend it wholeheartedly.
This morning I flipped to a random page, and these were the first words that caught my eye:
“The spiral-cut ham was alright.”
What a perfect phrase for a Micro Fiction Challenge!
What Is This Contest and How Do I Enter?
In fifty (50) words or fewer, write a story, scene, joke, snippet, aphorism — take it in whatever direction you want; it doesn’t have to be fiction — that includes the line “The spiral-cut ham was alright.”
(And let’s say “spiral-cut” is one word. So you’ve got 45 words to play with.)
Enter as many times as you wish.
Write or paste your story/stories in the comments section below.
Submit your entries by 11:59 p.m. Eastern on Monday, July 20.
I’ll announce the winner in the comments and in the following weekend’s email message (which, if you don’t already receive, you can sign up for in the right sidebar).
You’ll Choose a Winner Based on What, Exactly?
The usual metrics: style, concision (obviously), humor. Whimsy (mine).
And I’ll take into account the number of thumbs-up each story receives. So if you really enjoy someone else’s piece, be a sport and give it an upvote.
If you find yourself struggling with your first line, revisit our post “How Do You Hook a Reader?”
And remember: Not many of your fellow WriteByNighters enjoy fiction that opens with dialogue!
Good luck!
WriteByNight is a writers’ service dedicated to helping you reach your creative potential. We work with writers of all experience levels working in all genres. Browse our book coaching, manuscript consultation, publication assistance services, and sign up for your free writing consultation today.
WriteByNight writing coach and co-founder David Duhr is fiction editor at the Texas Observer and co-host of the Yak Babies podcast, and has written about books for the Dallas Morning News, Electric Literature, Publishing Perspectives, and others.
The Spiral-cut ham was alright, but the funeral potatoes tasted better. Why? I don’t know, but perhaps because they’re both served at funerals and Christmas. My dad loved them both. Today I celebrated his life in the place that he loved more than anywhere else – Hogs Heaven. I Love you.
Thanks, Ken. I’d definitely read a book titled FUNERAL POTATOES!
Jennifer plopped into the rust-colored recliner, paper plate on her lap. The spiral-cut ham was alright, but it seemed to highlight the tension in the room. Every time she worked the stringy meat over her molars, the chill between her parents magnified. She hated the holidays; she hated the ham.
I kinda love this. Thank you.
We sit bobbing in beach chairs, North America in full view. The trade winds noticeable. Whipping the land right below our feet. I radio to the mother ship: “She’s between my thighs.” The spiral-cut ham was alright. Safe. Away from category twelve hurricanes.
Celebrating Easter in space once again.
A whole climate apocalypse in <50 words, well done. Thanks, Mike.
“The spiral-cut ham was alright.”
“Alright? Alistair, they spent two years raising that hog and cured the meat for 48 months. It wasn’t ‘spiral-cut ham’; it was jamón ibérico,” I replied.
Alistair shrugged and returned to his laptop.
“I quit,” I said, taking off my apron. The dinner rush started.
Thanks, Melissa. I enjoy this one.
This left me wanting to know more about these characters, which I thought, until reading this, would be impossible with only 50 words about spiral-cut ham.
I asked Matthew McConaughey to my dinner party, and he actually came. In a starstruck fugue state, I watched him devour piles of food until he passed out on my living room couch. He awoke hours later, smiling, and said, “Tell the chef the spiral-cut ham was alright, alright, alright!”
Well played, good sir. (Also, it’s cool to hear from you!)
Thanks so much, David! I was super stoked to tackle this microfiction. Love how this idea forces you to get super creative quickly.
I started laughing at “Matthew McConaughey”, knowing where it was going to end up, and enjoying it all the more for that.
Thanks so much, man! As soon as I saw the word “alright” I knew a Mathew McConaughey reference was coming haha
The spiral-cut ham was alright, Spiro Gregorius, the renowned food critic, wrote in his spiral notebook while sitting at the top of his spiral staircase, and then tipping his Slinky over, and watching it languidly descend the stairs, he wondered when his life would finally straighten out.
Been there, done that….
And then something about a shame spiral…
Oh, the endlessly circular possibilities that could have been with another 50 words
You get a pink blob for filling up at Ron’s Gas-O-Rama. The spiral-cut ham was alright but I miss the plates featuring tiny platypuses. I have four, but only one friend and they despise ham. My dog, Chewbarker loves flat beaks and salty meat. He clearly sees Ron’s genius.
Maybe my favorite thing about this is that if, in a few months, someone googles “Ron’s Gas-o-Rama,” this will be the only result. (I know, because I looked to see if it’s a real place.) It’s good to hear from you, Lynn. Thanks for playing!
Thanks David! Hope you are well! I love a micro fiction contest. Appreciate you doing this!
Zorgx hated wearing the tuxedo. It pinched his crotch, not to mention his quiglerp. Finally the words, “I now pronounce you flerbk and wife. You may bathe the bride in petrochemicals”. At the reception, Zorgx overindulged. Lousy clorff, tough and chewy, but the spiral ham was alright. Weddings, ugh.
Nothing worse than a squeezed quiglerp. It’s good to see your approach is still as colorful as it’s always been.
There’s something about a quiglerp and a pinched crotch that make me giddy!
Reminds me of the day I was a fierbk. This should win on quiglerp alone.
Becoming a vegetarian was easy. Defending it wasn’t, especially to my mother.
“Chicken! Steak! Hamburgers! Why give them up?”
Explain? Shrug? Wouldn’t matter.
“What about Easter? You’ve loved those dinners. Yeah, I guess the eggs, potatoes, and carrot cake are great. But, anyway, the spiral-cut ham was alright, right?”
Sigh.
What’s worse, Easter ham or Christmas ham?
My stepdaughter announced one night that she’s becoming a pescatarian. The next night, I asked her what she’d had for lunch and dinner. She said “I had a burger for lunch and then spaghetti and turkey meatballs for dinner.” So I said “So… how’s the pescatarian thing going?” She blushed and said, “Oops.”
My cousin always joins us for Thanksgiving and brings a plant-based meat dish that is indistinguishable from the real thing. Last year, she brought a vegetarian ham. We loved it. She asked my father, her uncle how was it? And he said the spiral-cut ham was alright. We laughed!
I’m not shocked to learn that vegetarian ham exists. But I am, I think, dismayed?
Hammy, Hammy
(how I love you, how I love you.
My dear old Hammy)
The spiral-cut ham was alright, but the roast beef was divine. Sure, I almost puked when I tasted it, but Bernard insisted and you didn’t cross a psycho like Bernard.
“ Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to get human flesh to taste like ham?” Bernard besieged.
I have to wonder if this is a voluntary tasting. Either way, I’m pretty happy with this one.
The aftermath of the post-funeral repast, of tugging the complicated threads of Pawpaw’s life together with nothing but his body to mediate over the knot, should have been predictable. And yet, Rosie surveyed the damage—the broken china, the spilled sweet tea—with shock. Still, the spiral-cut ham was alright.
I loved what’s not in this story. Well done.
Here’s an entry from a different David:
The spiral-cut ham was alright, ‘ceptn when Clem bit inta his piece some juice launched outta his teeth ‘n’ over his beard ‘n’ square inta Aunt Edna’s eye, ‘n’ that jes started the whole dadgum fight again, Uncle Billy ‘n’ the rest, like Hatfields ‘n’ McCoys, ‘ceptn they warn’t.
I’d give extra points for ‘ceptn — 2 times no less!
Ah! What can I say? The annual Christmas dinner! While Mom checked the ham, my two drunk uncles elevated their argument, and booze found its way into the open oven, setting it ablaze. Despite being coated in a charred Jack or Jim glaze, the spiral-cut ham was alright.
I kinda feel like that glaze is the only thing that could make the ham all right. (Can you deep-fry a ham in some Jack?)
Sitting on the cold tile floor I wondered at what point my life had gone so horribly wrong. With a glass of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other. Every time I asked for cherry pie she bought apple. But at least the spiral-cut ham was alright.
I love this one. Thanks for playing.
England
Jory sits with Papa in the dining room. Papa discusses the dinner plan this evening to him.
He remarks, “Now Auntie is bringing something different this year.”
Jory cries out, “But Papa, I want the chips with Auntie’s curry sauce.”
“You must say, ‘The spiral-cut ham was alright.’ ”
I can hear this one. It’s good to see your name here; thanks for playing.
The spiral-cut ham was alright. Everyone seemed to rave over it, but honestly, I’m just glad everyones here. All our different personalities, lifestyles, and families, all right here, together. Everyone’s laughing, joking, teasing; reminiscence permeates the air with stories old and new.
This is so warm and inviting. Thanks, Julio. Good work.
A foiled treasure lay in the sand. “It dropped from large bird that makes loud noise. We eat pink thing over fire.” Mongo said. They laughed holding full bellies. All agreed the spiral-cut ham was alright but pasty humans taste better. Less salty. “Let’s see what big bird poops next time.”
A gold-foiled treasure awaited. “It dropped from large bird that makes loud noise. We eat pink thing over fire.” Mongo said. They laughed holding full bellies. All agreed the spiral-cut ham was alright but pasty humans taste better. Less salty. “Let’s see what big bird poops tomorrow.”
She dreamt of turkey and stuffing sandwiches all year. Thanksgiving was the one day her mom cooked. “The spiral-cut ham is alright but who’s allergic to turkey?” Midge grumbled. “Why is Mom falling all over her?” Morty didn’t mind being marriage number five. But Midge couldn’t live with Mortifer.
I see the hatred in your face as I lay strapped down. Well-deserved for I am guilty. Fought my guilt so long to prevent mom from feeling your same loss. The spiral-cut ham was alright. Best that can be expected from a last meal.
“The spiral-cut ham was alright,” said Mom as she frowned and shook her head. At the creek tonight David will propose, and I will be free from all this disappointment. David never showed, and I will live forever in this town. I really hate ham.
A man stalked me on the streets of San Franciso bellowing nonsense. Felt cowardly to run from such a small man. “The spiral-cut ham was alright,” he blurted out. I turned to watch him thrust a knife to my stomach. Always run.
“The spiral-cut ham is alright,” I said to two pouty eyed pranksters leaving evidence on the floor. “Who did this,” I looked down to browned eyed innocence. Guess it will be a bowl of cereal tonight and a Netflix movie. Nothing better than a dog.
If you didn’t catch the news in our latest email, I asked Drew to guest judge this contest. And the winner is… Jesica! Congrats to Jesica, to runner-up M.J., and to all of you who entered and made it a difficult choice for Drew.
New contest next week!