Build a better villain!
If you’re writing a story with a “villain” – a true antagonist, someone whose goal is ultimately to prevent the protagonist from achieving their goal, either directly or indirectly – then you need to create a villain worth of the role.
This is where a lot of writers stumble.
The antagonist is the physical embodiment of the story’s conflict… and conflict is the fuel in the story’s engine. If you make a “weak” villain, or a flat one, or an illogical one, then your whole story will suffer as a result, so it’s a tall order and an easy one to trip on.
Here are some of the “usual suspects” – the usual mistakes we make with antagonists, as well as options to correct them.
1. “Cartoon” villains
I’ve read too many books where the villain is straight out of Stereotype Central Casting. They are predictable, for one thing: if the protagonist wants something, they are right there, snickering away and twirling their metaphorical moustache, ready to throw out a spike strip on the protagonist’s path. They look either physically grotesque or smarmily gorgeous. They talk less in dialogue than in monologues. They are scenery chewers, actions broad enough to be seen from space.
The worst part about this is that they don’t seem to have any reason for what they’re doing, beside “because it’s the bad thing to do!”
If their sole purpose is to be a bad person, and a thorn in the protagonist’s side, then they are going to flatten to a pancake. These two-dimensional characters can take an otherwise plausible and nuanced story and flatten that, as well. It’s hard to have well-developed main characters when they are essentially fighting a cardboard cutout.
Possible solution: Give antagonists their own GMCs. This doesn’t mean they need their own point of view scenes. It does mean that you’ll understand why they’re doing what they do, creating more organic scenes when they are in action. You can include a bit of backstory here and there to show why they feel they’re entitled to victory. This adds nuance.
In some cases, this nuance shows up as an element of sympathy if not empathy. In others, you can show that they are horrible… except when it comes to (whatever). The stereotype is usually showing them kind to children or animals.
If you can’t or won’t add sympathy or a drop of “goodness” – there’s always the Magnificent Bastard path. Make a character that is so interesting, charismatic, and/or pure fun to read about, that the reader can’t help but be intrigued. They may be bonkers or brilliant, but by God, they’re compelling.
[Note: that link to Overly Sarcastic Production’s Magnificent Bastard Trope is pure gold, by the way. It’s fun, but also incredibly, almost overwhelmingly, informative. Worth checking out.]
2. Their actions make no sense.
As has already been acknowledged above, when a villain makes choices purely because they’re “bad” – or worse, because the author needs the protagonist to have obstacles and so they force the villain to behave in ways that provide them – then the train starts to careen off the track. Especially when they do bad things that simply make no sense given their (hopefully) established GMCs.
Possible solutions: as long as you’re giving them GMCs, give them their own Plot Points, as well.
Again: this doesn’t mean give them their own POV scenes, necessarily. But they are pursuing a goal, and that journey is going to play out through the book, just like the protagonist’s goal does. (In fact, if this is a tragedy of some sort or an Empire Strikes Back mid-series reversal, they may well “win” and, in a weird way, be a main character if not the protagonist.)
The fact that their goal screws the protagonist over may or may not be the primary purpose, but ultimately, their pursuit of their own goal will be influenced and impacted by whatever it is the protagonist is doing. That’s why they are in opposition: that’s why antagonists/villains are the source of conflict. If motivation is the engine in a story, conflict is the crucible that enables the protagonist’s arc. No conflict, no change.
Personally, I find it helpful to think of an antagonist’s plot points as a mirror of the protagonist’s. Where pinch points for the protagonists are where opposition shows itself and hits back harder, those same benchmarks act as places of progress and the need to escalate. The Hopeless Moment for a protagonist should be a moment of triumph for the villain.
3. Inconsistency and corner-painting
Tell me if you’ve seen this (or written this) before.
The villain seems overpowering, all but unstoppable. They know all, see all, and have no weaknesses.
Then, on the cusp of victory… they do one foolish thing that seems completely out of character.
(Or, if because of a shadowy and mysterious nature, they haven’t had much of a defined character to begin with, they do something completely illogical or unexplainable.)
This usually happens when the author wanted a strong bad guy, because they knew conflict was important, but when they reached the third act, they didn’t know how to actually defeat said bad guy. They’ve painted themselves into the proverbial corner, and now they’re stuck.
So they force the action. They have the brilliant strategist overlook something important. A warrior gets taken out by a rudimentary punch to the sternum. Or the ultimate cliché – they indulge in a pointless (and often indulgent) “monologue” to explain their greatness, giving the protagonists time to Do The Thing that defeats them.
Please, don’t do this.
Possible solutions:
Make sure your antagonist is consistent. If you can’t beat them because you’ve made them bonkers strong, maybe dial back the power (you can always amplify something else, like the fury or the complexity, or of course the Magnificence.) There can be a satisfaction in seeing the antagonist escalate and grow at the same time as the protagonist in some situations, especially nuanced ones.
Stretch for your solution. You can use things like Donald Maass’ 20 things exercise (where you brainstorm twenty possible solutions/scenes/twists to any situation – in this case, “how to beat the bad guy.”) The first ten possibilities are probably going to be clichés. Then next ten are going to be stronger, more creative, and you’re really going to need to struggle for them. That’s where the gold is. (Go to thirty if you must.)
Also, you can always brainstorm with other writers to come up with something fresh and strong. Finally, if push comes to shove, you can always contact me for a brainstorming session to help you out of a jam if you need one!