"I will never write those kind of books again -- never," Rice said, referring to three decades of work that include bestsellers like "Interview with the Vampire" and other books in the Vampire Chronicles series. Her books about witches and dark angels, she said, "were reflections of a world that didn't include redemption."
"In 2002 I made up my mind that I would not write anything that wasn't for Christ," the former vampire queen explained. The title of her latest novel stakes out Rice's new preoccupation. "Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt" tells the story of a young Jesus from his point of view: a 7-year-old boy who is discovering his powers and his identity.
This transformation is startling for a writer who previously summoned vampires, witches and ghosts to life in tale after tale of supernatural life. Two series of vampire books that began in 1976 with "Interview with the Vampire," one series dealing with witches, and even a trio of erotica written under the pen name A.N. Roquelaure all established an elaborate network of mysterious characters, complex relationships, and dark themes. Rice's use of the supernatural allowed her to look back into history for baroque settings as well as contemporary ones for her stories.
"The books in a way are like stations on a journey," Rice said. "They reflect different points on a lifelong quest."
Her own faith journey is something of a round trip. Her new book is a reflection of her return, in 1998, to the faith of her childhood. Raised a Catholic in 1940s and 1950s New Orleans, that childhood experience of a gumbo of cultures strongly spiced by religion gave her a keen awareness of the beauty of faith. A sensual longing for beauty threads through her work: from the Vampire Lestat's frock coat to rosewood furniture to rapacious wisteria, the particulars of dress, décor, art, and music are palpable on the pages of Rice's books.
But she left the church at age 18, beckoned by an adult world where faith seemed unnecessary. Shortly thereafter she married a painter, the late Stan Rice, whom she says was a "passionate atheist."
Decades and books later, the influence of Catholic friends and intense curiosity about Jesus and his times slowly nudged her back to faith, but not without soul-searching. "I spent a year tearing my hair out over moral questions," she said. One afternoon in 1998 she asked her assistant to recommend a priest who might hear her confession, a Catholic rite of penitence. "She said, 'I know the perfect person, and he's there now,'" Rice recalls. After a two-hour--"maybe even three"--session with her confessor, Rice returned to the Church, setting aside her reservations, especially the Catholic Church's stance on homosexuality. (Rice's son, Christopher, is gay.) "I said, 'I will leave these things in the hands of God.'"