This book changed my life when I was a kid. I’m about to re-read it for the third or fourth time before it inevitably re-enters the best sellers lists when people get hyped about the new tv show. First and foremost, this book taught me how to write. Not that I would dare compare myself to the great Anne Rice. But it taught me about prose, about rich description, about art and aesthetics (the original meaning of the word, not what it’s recently morphed into thanks to countless social media posts), and to an extent, about loss, although I didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t know her, but I was lucky enough to talk with Anne Rice on numerous occasions about some of the bigger questions in life, writing, and metaphysical subjects. She pulled no punches, and was quick to put you in your place if she disagreed or you annoyed her. She called me out once when I went on a rant about God. Equally, she credited me a couple of times when I mused about the possibility of life after death (a subje...