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Shirley Jackson head shot - The New Yorker

Shirley Jackson

Shirley Jackson is known to countless American schoolchildren today primarily for one story: “The Lottery,” a terrifying portrait of the brutality within us, which, when it first appeared in The New Yorker, in 1948, prompted scores of outraged letters. (“The number of people who expected Mrs. Hutchinson to win a Bendix washing machine at the end would amaze you,” Jackson wryly noted.) Yet Jackson’s history with the magazine includes fifteen stories, some of which were published after her death, in 1965, at the age of forty-eight. Born in San Francisco, Jackson settled in North Bennington, Vermont, whose small-town milieu informed much of her fiction. She wrote more than two hundred stories and six novels, including “The Haunting of Hill House” and “We Have Always Lived in the Castle,” in which she paired elements of horror and suspense with psychological acuity to depict what she called the “demon of the mind.”

Selected Stories

The Lottery

“The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions; most of them were quiet, wetting their lips, not looking around.”
Outline of a human body made by the silhouettes of trees in a forest with the text “The Man in the Woods” and “Shirley...

The Man in the Woods

“Christopher had come into the forest at a crossroads, turning onto the forest road as though he had a choice, looking back once to see the other road, the one he had not chosen.”
Six illustrated panels depicting closeups of men's faces hands and vehicles

Paranoia

“The question of what the man in the light hat wanted was immediately subordinate to the question of whom he wanted.”
A bedroom dresser and mirror

Trial by Combat

“Emily had known for some time who was taking the things, but it was only tonight that she had decided what to do.”

All Fiction

Call Me Ishmael

“There was no woman, there was a corner, and a corner was no place for a woman to stand, any more than a decent house was any place for her to live.”

The Man in the Woods

“Christopher had come into the forest at a crossroads, turning onto the forest road as though he had a choice, looking back once to see the other road, the one he had not chosen.”

Paranoia

“The question of what the man in the light hat wanted was immediately subordinate to the question of whom he wanted.”

An International Incident

Here we were, unprepared, in a sort of ambassadorial role, forced to stand or fall by our reasonably dutiful way of life.

The Lottery

“The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions; most of them were quiet, wetting their lips, not looking around.”

It Isn’t the Money I Mind

Now I know I just didn’t have sense enough to see the baby had talent.

Whistler’s Grandmother

“I’m going to see my grandson,” the old lady said. “He’s home on leave.”

When Things Get Dark

Mrs. Garden’s lips trembled and she put her hand up to her mouth. “I suppose everyone gets desperate sometimes,” she said.

All Fiction

Call Me Ishmael

“There was no woman, there was a corner, and a corner was no place for a woman to stand, any more than a decent house was any place for her to live.”

The Man in the Woods

“Christopher had come into the forest at a crossroads, turning onto the forest road as though he had a choice, looking back once to see the other road, the one he had not chosen.”

Paranoia

“The question of what the man in the light hat wanted was immediately subordinate to the question of whom he wanted.”

An International Incident

Here we were, unprepared, in a sort of ambassadorial role, forced to stand or fall by our reasonably dutiful way of life.

The Lottery

“The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions; most of them were quiet, wetting their lips, not looking around.”

It Isn’t the Money I Mind

Now I know I just didn’t have sense enough to see the baby had talent.

Whistler’s Grandmother

“I’m going to see my grandson,” the old lady said. “He’s home on leave.”

When Things Get Dark

Mrs. Garden’s lips trembled and she put her hand up to her mouth. “I suppose everyone gets desperate sometimes,” she said.

New Yorker Podcasts

About the Author

The Haunted Mind of Shirley Jackson

A new biography explores one of the twentieth century’s most tortured writers.

“The Lottery” Letters

A torrent of mail arrived at The New Yorker in the wake of Shirley Jackson’s short story—the most the magazine had ever received in response to a work of fiction.

Shirley Jackson’s Son on an Early Story of Hers

A conversation with Laurence Jackson Hyman.

About the Author

The Haunted Mind of Shirley Jackson

A new biography explores one of the twentieth century’s most tortured writers.

“The Lottery” Letters

A torrent of mail arrived at The New Yorker in the wake of Shirley Jackson’s short story—the most the magazine had ever received in response to a work of fiction.

Shirley Jackson’s Son on an Early Story of Hers

A conversation with Laurence Jackson Hyman.

More by the Author

Garlic in Fiction

The short-story writer can catch at the reader and hold him with small things, used sparingly and with great care, to accent and emphasize.

On Fans and Fan Mail

People in books are sensible and reasonable, but outside there is no predicting what they will do.

Memory and Delusion

As long as you write it away regularly, nothing can really hurt you.

More by the Author

Garlic in Fiction

The short-story writer can catch at the reader and hold him with small things, used sparingly and with great care, to accent and emphasize.

On Fans and Fan Mail

People in books are sensible and reasonable, but outside there is no predicting what they will do.

Memory and Delusion

As long as you write it away regularly, nothing can really hurt you.