How to Make a Good Villain

In a certain way it was easier in Victorian times when all a villain needed was a monocle and a riding crop.

Villains have been on my mind. (Maybe it’s the news lately….) Not every book needs a villain, but when you do, they’re often the most fun part of the creative process. For me, anyway. Perhaps this is something I should discuss with my therapist.

You can have a straight-up villain who’s just nasty all through, and sometimes that’s all your story needs–somebody threatening, with very little complexity but enough mojo to keep your protagonist on his/her toes. (See Gideon Arnold of The Secrets of the Seven series or Alain of Dragon’s Egg.)

Sometimes, though, a story needs a subtler villain. A sneaky one. One of the creepiest things about these villains is that they get you to trust them. They’re nice. They’re plausible. They are, in fact, just what you wanted–a friend, a protector, an ally. Until they’re not. This is one of the best writer tricks to play with a villain–when the person the hero (and by extension, the reader) trusts most is the bad guy. (For example, Abby Arnold in The Secret of the Seven series or Robert Pooley in The Secret of the Rose. Yep, those titles are kind of giveaways, huh?)

Hint to readers: if somebody in the book is too perfect, too caring, too helpful, so much concerned with meeting the hero’s needs that they seem to have none of their own–watch out.

But the most fun, absolutely the most fun thing you can do with a villain is to turn him or her into the hero.

Like the king’s unacknowledged son who pulls his father’s kingdom down around his head (Medraud in The Dragon’s Son) or the trained and pitiless assassin whose mission goes awry (Kata in Deadly Flowers and Deadly Wish), it’s so much fun to get into the head of a villain. The trick here is to know that very few people are the villains of their own stories. You, as the writer, have to find the way that works. You have to make your villain/hero sympathetic by giving him or her a goal everybody can relate to. So Medraud wants his father to pay attention to him (who doesn’t?) and Kata wants to take something she’s very good at and become the best at it. Admirable, even.

If you can make that feeling vivid enough in your character’s head, the reader will follow him or her through the book, no matter what havoc he or she trails in his wake. Sympathy turns a villain into a hero. And it’s a lot of fun.