Anne Rice on Her Body of Work

I read Anne Rice's book Interview with the Vampire when I was about 14. My sister had read it after Sting's song "Moon over Bourbon Street," which was inspired by the novel. The book made a huge impression on me, to the point that when the Queen of the Damned came out, my high school friends and I read the introduction aloud to each other, and thought we were the coolest. ("I am the Vampire Lestat," it begins. "I'm immortal. More or less. ...") I was a bit of a Goth during that period, in case you were wondering, and I've still got a good bit of Goth in me. I no longer wear black eyeliner, however.
I was thinking of all this recently because Anne Rice has a fascinating post on her website about her body of work, both pre- and post-vampires. She wrote many, many books about vampires, witches and other occult phenomena. I read a lot of them -- most but not all -- and some of them were really good. But to me, her books dropped off in quality significantly as the years went on, or maybe I just lost interest.
Recently, though, Rice went through a conversion experience, returned to her Catholic faith, and decided to devote herself to writing about the life of Christ -- in the first person. Not an easy task, I'm sure. The first book came out last year, "Christ: Out of Egypt." It was like a wonderful return to form -- gripping and interesting and moving and well-done, just like the old vampire books. So count me in as a fan of both her new and old work.
Interestingly, Anne Rice posted to her web site recently defending her "dark fiction." I'm going to point you to the site and let you read it yourself; it's worth reading in its entirety. She also discusses her conception of art, the way she views her own success, and her defense of plot and action. (Though you'll have to scroll down past her endorsement of Hillary Clinton.) Here's one her key points, to my way of thinking:

Much could be said, and has been said, about all of my works. I would like to say that the one thing which unites them is the theme of the moral and spiritual quest. A second theme, key to most of them, is the quest of the outcast for a context of meaning, whether that outcast is an 18th century castrato opera singer, or a young boy of mixed blood coming of age in ante-bellum New Orleans, or a person forced into a monstrous predatory existence like the young vampire, Lestat. For me, these themes are inherently significant and noble themes. They are worthy of exploration; they are evocative; they can and do reflect the deepest questions that humans face.

Read her entire essay here. (Warning, her web site features music that will start when you click onto her web page.)