Writing: Three Tricks for Writing Villains

Christine McConnell

Villains are tough for me to write. Here's three tricks that I use to grapple with them.

1. Nature as a villain, a villain by nature

I harbor a secret wish to redeem everyone, even the worst villains. In a story where I control all the parameters, it's easy to give in to this temptation. 

Yet an antagonistic force is necessary for a good story. Few books can pull off using the environment alone (Person v Nature) as the antagonistic force. It's not impossible; one fantastic book to do this recently was The Martian. The enemy in that book was Mars itself: life versus death. Simple, stark and utterly believable. When you pit one man against an entire planet, any extra villains would have only detracted from the majesty and terror of the real enemy, surviving on a planet completely alien to the one where our species evolved, a planet alien to life itself.

Some villains, for instance, an animal, an alien or a demonic force, could be evil simply by nature.

2. Antagonists are Just Good Characters Who Disagree

In contrast to The Martian, too many science fiction stories cheapen the challenges of exploring space by having stupid, petty, unexciting and unbelievable human antagonists, because the writers seem to think that's necessary. At the opposite end of the spectrum from good writing was the ghastly Netflix series about a bunch of narcissistic idiots, apparently chosen at random outside a bar in San Francisco as they staggered away at 2 am after closing, who are sent on an all-important mission to save Earth from mysterious aliens. The idea that any of these whiny, out of shape and incredibly dumb people were astronauts strained my credulity. They staged a mutiny in the first episode. Seriously? If the writers had bothered to know their science, they could have made the journey itself the major challenge. Disputes on the team could have been natural disagreements between mature adults who had different solutions but the same goal, the survival and protection of the human race.

I'm all in favor of having deep rooted conflict come from good characters who disagree. To me, this is the best kind of conflict in a book, because it makes it the hardest to earn that happy ending. If two characters you love are on opposite sides of an issue or an argument or better yet, a war, "winning" isn't going to guarantee a happy ending.

Astute readers of The Unfinished Song may have noticed that throughout the series good characters are often on opposite sides. This is going to continue in the last three books. I don't want to give too many spoilers, but nothing is going to be easy for Dindi and Kavio. 

A tragic ending would be easy, but also cheap. That's why I have a philosophical preference, as well as a personal preference, for happy endings. A happy ending that is earned is the hardest ending to write. 

3. Villains Who Chose Poorly

However, even though I love conflict between good characters more than conflict between heros and villains, and I love happy resolutions more than tragedy, I have come to recognize that villains and tragic endings have a place in story as well. The villain's Anti-Heroic Journey, the descent into a tragedy, can serve as a poignant contrast to the happy ending or Heroic Journey. It can also add that dose of realism, that reminder that happy endings are difficult to achieve, and some people can't be saved from their own choices. 

There's a scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where the Nazi is trying to pick the Chalice. The Nazi goes for the flashy cup. The Guardian of the Chalice says, deadpan, "You chose poorly."

Subliminally, the viewer understands that the villain chose poorly not only in this one instance, but through the story, throughout a lifetime. Villains--the real baddies, the big schmucks--value the wrong things, which not only puts them in conflict with the heroes but ultimately contains the seeds of their downfall. 

If you villain is also your protagonist, if you're a tragedy like Breaking Bad, then this applies to your antihero. 

Personally, I prefer the classic story telling framework, which contrasts the outcome of poor choices with the outcome of good choices. The good choices can't be easy choices. There's a price to pay for not taking the easy road to power and glory, as villains do. In the short term, the villains seem to triumph. But in the long term... ah, that is where the seemingly fragile values of truth, compassion, courage and perseverance finally pay out. By contrast, the villain who trampled over everyone to reach a position of seemingly unassailable power is finally destroyed by his own shortsighted choices.

Of course, the details and the themes will reflect your values, as a writer. If, secretly, you admire the villains, you'll scoff at the idea that the hero wins. But take care. Stories matter, values matter, and choices matter.

Choose wisely.