In Life Among the Savages, Shirley Jackson recounts her life with her husband and three children when they move from New York City to rural Vermont. No, it's not "The Lottery," it is funny and homespun and just sardonic enough. Originally published in 1953, it is a compilation of pieces published in women's magazines such as Good Housekeeping. Writing for that market, Jackson is careful to present herself as a "housewife" rather than as a serious writer who was the family's main breadwinner. I didn't find this as uproariously funny as some readers do, but I liked Jackson's unsentimental yet loving account of her kids, and I was amused and sometimes aghast at some of the seriously dated aspects: a cigarette smoking mom who leaves sugary juice by her children's bedside table, for example, her cheerfully throwing her kids in the car, sans seat belts, when she has just learned to drive, and her husband's distance from most aspects of child rearing (well, maybe that last is not so dated).