Dinner for Vampires: Life on a Cult TV Show (While Also in an Actual Cult!)

By Bethany Joy Lenz

Bethany Joy Lenz understands that discussions of cults have become somewhat mainstream in today’s culture. “When I share my experience of being part of a cult, people often respond with, ‘Which one?'” she candidly reveals in her insightful memoir, Dinner for Vampires. There’s a glimmer of disappointment in their eyes when she explains, “It was just a small Bible-based group in the Pacific Northwest.” While it may not be a well-known name, the Big House Family exploited Lenz’s psychological and financial vulnerabilities for nearly a decade, stripping her of any sense of autonomy.

Before she made her mark as the endearing overachiever Haley James on the iconic 2000s television drama One Tree Hill, Lenz was a fresh face in Hollywood, desperately searching for a sense of belonging. In Dinner for Vampires, she challenges the stereotype that only the weak or desperate succumb to the allure of a cult: Raised in a loving and devout family of free-spirited Christians who moved frequently (spending most of her childhood in Texas), Lenz recalls a household rich with prayer, Proverbs, and “daily conversations about God.” Her father was deeply committed, often seen poring over a leather-bound King James Bible, complete with a highlighter and pen, meticulously annotating every margin.

Her parents, while dedicated to their faith, were never overbearing or manipulative. They supported Lenz’s dreams, defending her choice to star in the “tawdry” daytime soap opera Guiding Light against the church’s disapproval. Throughout the book, Lenz’s writing maintains a light and accessible tone, often infused with humor, even as the narrative takes a darker turn.

At just 20 years old, Lenz arrives in Los Angeles to fully immerse herself in her acting aspirations. Feeling profoundly isolated, she searches for community among other young Christians, one of whom introduces her to a weekly Bible study hosted by two brothers, former Seventh-day Adventists. It is there that she encounters a man she refers to as Les—a pastor without a congregation from Idaho—whose unsettling demeanor she captures vividly: “a short, red-faced man in his late 40s, with hair sprouting everywhere except the top of his head,” and a belly that “jutted out beneath his ape-like arms.” Over the months, Les gradually exerts his control over the L.A. Bible study group, transforming it into a branch of the church he is attempting to establish back home.

The specific denomination Les follows remains ambiguous, and the unclear details of his past and his failed business endeavors propel the narrative forward, even as some questions linger unanswered. Following a personal heartbreak, Lenz finds herself increasingly drawn to Les’s influence, ultimately accepting an invitation to visit the “little God spa” that he and another leader, Pam, are developing in Idaho. “I longed to be enveloped by family,” she admits. As her visits to this Family multiply, they begin to replace her own biological family: “The more I immersed myself in Les and Pam’s world,” Lenz reflects, “the more alienated I felt from my parents and the less I came to trust them.”