Writing your first villain can feel a bit like applying for your first job: you know you need one, you vaguely understand what they do, and you’re hoping no one notices you’re improvising.
But fear not! A great villain isn’t born—they’re written. Preferably by you, armed with this handy guide.
A strong villain does more than cackle ominously or lurk in cloaks (though both are perfectly acceptable hobbies). To truly elevate your story, your villain needs:
Even if it’s misguided, readers should understand why your villain does what they do.
Good Example: Killmonger wants justice—he just takes a morally questionable scenic route.
Bad Example: “I’m evil because… I just am.” No. Send them back for rewrites.
Your villain should move the plot—not wait for it.
Good Example: Darth Vader relentlessly hunting rebels.
Bad Example: Villains who sit in towers sending vague threats via courier pigeon.
Your villain doesn’t need to be sympathetic, but they shouldn’t be made of cardboard, either.
Good Example: Gollum—tragic, creepy, and oddly endearing.
Bad Example: Evil Sorcerer #12, whose personality is “has staff, says ominous things.”
Villain clichés can be fun—but only if you’re intentionally using them. Otherwise, they’ll drag your story into predictability.
If their entire motive fits in a three-word sentence, it’s too shallow.
Real villains don’t schedule PowerPoint presentations for their evil plans.
If they’re supposedly brilliant yet repeatedly outsmarted by a distracted protagonist, you’ve got a mismatch.
If readers wouldn’t notice if they were replaced by a moderately annoyed houseplant, give them more depth.
These steps will level up your antagonist instantly:
Your villain should believe they’re right—even when they’re spectacularly wrong.
Conflict is born when both sides want incompatible things.
Small victories raise the stakes and make the eventual defeat satisfying.
Their decisions should make sense from their perspective.
A great villain can be a person, system, monster, AI—or even a smug weather phenomenon.
Magneto – ideology-driven, tragic, compelling.
Hannibal Lecter – charming, terrifying, oddly polite.
The Sheriff of Nottingham – corrupt, funny, and in perfect opposition to the hero.
Cruel for no reason
Villains defeated by convenient plot accidents
Antagonists who lose because they simply won’t stop monologuing
If the hero wins only because the villain is foolish, the tension evaporates.
A hero is only as interesting as the villain who challenges them.
Your antagonist should force the protagonist to grow, adapt, and face uncomfortable truths.
If your hero feels flat, strengthen your villain—they’re two sides of the same narrative coin.
The perfect villain isn’t perfect. They’re flawed, driven, and alive with intention.
Give them real goals, believable motives, and a personality that complicates your hero’s life in deliciously narrative ways.
And remember: a well-written villain isn’t just good for the story…
They’re the most fun you’ll ever have writing dialogue.