The Haunting of Hill House

Shirley Jackson was a well-known prized author specifically for her short stories, “The Lottery,” Life among the Savages,” and “Raising Demons.” Mrs. Jackson also wrote several novels such as “The Haunting of Hill House,” and “We Have Always Lived in the Castle.” Her writings are known to be eerie and dark, particularly, “The Lottery.” Although the story was written in about two hours with little revision the sheer horror and disbelief in the underlying surface of the story line were captured…

Located in between West Egg and New York City it is described as, “...a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke...” (Fitzgerald, 23), and the people, “...move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air” (Fitzgerald, 23). With this imagery the Valley of Ashes comes across as a desolate land…

central Jordan lie the remains of a 10,000-year-old village called Ain Ghazal, whose inhabitants lived in stone houses with timber roof beams, the walls and floors gleaming with white plaster. Hundreds of people living there worshiped in circular shrines and made haunting, wide-eyed sculptures that stood three feet high. They buried their cherished dead under the floors of their houses, decapitating the bodies in order to decorate the skulls. But as fascinating as this culture was, something…

Chapter Two The Dead Don’t Talk Meeting with the agency’s co-founder, Twist Top-secret hideout Thursday, 10:30 a.m. Oliver Twistleton (a.k.a. Twist), an associate at the Deadwood Detective Agency, was waiting for Seth and me in our tree house—sorry, our top-secret hideout—complete with its three-legged desk and secondhand chairs. Against one wall was a shelf stacked with bins of hardware—tiny screws, bolts, fuses, gears and enough silicone to fill a basin. Next to the door was a poster of a…

I turned and caught a glimpse of blurred movement—a solitary figure in light-colored clothing and white sneakers running toward the house. Seth’s eyes looked like dark cutouts taped to his face. “Was that the ghost?” “Um, I dunno, but we’re going to find out. Come on.” I said, plowing up the driveway toward the mansion. Seth followed me, miserably mumbling something about I’m only doing…

Fitzgerald has described the American Dream as fantastic and magical. His American Dream has been real for him in his actual life. His fame and success has been realized and he tells the reader about the structure of the Dream, the work needed, and the struggle of the Dream. Fitzgerald knows what it is like to have the American Dream happen to him, and he continues to share the struggle and journey of the American Dream, today, through The Great Gatsby. The American Dream is always built on a…

“The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson was published on June 26, 1948. Some of her other works include “The Haunting of Hill House”, “Hangsaman”, And “The Sundial”. Jackson is known for many things but mostly for her Horror/Mystery stories as they are known to captivate the reader. Shirley Jackson is a very prolific author because she to brings a unique form of writing to her readers. This is seen through her many novels and short stories as the reader is greeted with something new in each one. “The…

the owl had been with me throughout the night...Suddenly the terrible fear that had possessed me was gone,”(Anaya 23) and also when he mentions “ But not Ultima’s owl. Its soft hooting was like a song, and as it grew rhythmic it calmed the moonlit hills and lulled us to sleep. Its song seemed to say that it had come to watch over us,”(Anaya 13). He also explains “Her sharp claws found flesh because the evil laughter of the coyotes changed to cries of pain,’’(Anaya 99) and “But the owl sought…

that had been haunting Macbeth was nature’s revenge on Macbeth.…

safer, even if I wasn't completely satisfied. The clouds grew thicker and then it wasn't much of a sprinkle but now a downpour. This was the best part about living in Washington, but this was hell. Now soggy and wet I began to waddle off towards my house still so far away. Cars still lined the streets in thick. Bumper to bumper like every day, just no honking or yelling or people. This whole…