Why I Hate Villains

So we're talking about villains this month on the Prosers. And I have to confess something. Even after decades as an avid reader, and closing in soon on a decade as an avid writer, I really, really dislike villains. (Sidetone: while looking for an image to use to headline this post, I came across this amusing blog post about a Villain Chair. I want!)

There. I said it. Yep. I dislike bad guys. Intensely.

Image via Flikr User Sam Lavy shared via a Creative Commons license

I've spent a lot of time considering why this is, so let me unpack some of the reasons.

First, most bad guys are written pathetically two-dimensional. Or even just one-dimensional, if you want to get into theoretical geometry. They have a single-minded focus on ruining the life of the protagonist. Their only story purpose is to make life crappy for the main character, or scare the beejeesus out of the main character to keep him/her on the run. Or to kill the main character's mother/brother/uncle/dog.

These kinds of bad guys don't work for me for the primary reason of: WHY? What the heck is motivating bad guy to so single-mindedly pursue our treasured main character? And why does bad guy continue doing so even after a point at which most sane people would stop the pursuit? Mostly because it serves the story's purpose, not because it makes any kind of logical sense.

I also dislike the deep, dark baddie because I have trouble believing in that sort of person. Sure, there are some deep, dark baddies in the world and we read about them in the news, but they aren't as commonplace as popular fiction (genre or otherwise) wants you to believe. Of course the counter-argument is that we only tell stories of great conflict and a juicy bad guy helps create that great conflict, but ... yeah. Ugh! Isn't there more to a great story than just a nasty meanie who wants to make life miserable for the main character?

Even when the "bad guy" is part institution/part person, it still falls down for me. Primary example: Hunger Games. I have a hard time believing in the whole story premise because the badness of the government is so great, and the nasty man at the head so nasty, it starts to feel like watching a bad cartoon. I think I have a greater dislike for institutional baddies than most other types, perhaps due to reading too much dystopian fiction.

So what is the alternative if I don't want to see such nasty bad people? How to make a story work without a Big Bad for the main character to be set in opposition to?

Well one of my favorite kinds of stories are the kind where the conflict stems from the main character and some antagonist/oppositional force being at cross-purposes to one another. Stories where there is one character with goal A and another character with goal B and the pursuit of goals A or B mean thwarting the achievement of the *other* goal.

These are hard stories to pull off, but often tremendously satisfying. This usually requires for an investment in time on the part of the author to draw the antagonist/oppositional character fully. Often this is done by giving the antagonist the moral opposite characteristics of the main character. Since real people are morally complex and carry many different views about things, done well this can create a nuanced character that can be difficult to pigeonhole into a "bad guy" category.

Tamora Pierce does this to amazing effect with the last in the Beka Cooper series, Mastiff.

Maggie Stiefvater's Raven Boys series includes some weird stuff and several characters at cross-purposes to the main characters' quests (including a caricature or two of the traditional "bad guy," though she takes us into the POV of one in an effective way.) There's even a character in the second book in the series who is semi-antagonist, semi-mentor role, showing one of the principals how to use his magic. It's definitely a more compelling series to read than many others due to this layered complexity to the "bad guy" aspect of the story.

Isaac Asimov used to play with this quite a lot in his books, an example of one I recently read was Currents of Space. In this book, there is a "bad guy" who put the main character into the bad situation he finds himself in, but that character turns out to be a very minor player, instead the primary conflict is driven by information the main character learns gradually (coming out of an amnesiac episode) which is in direct opposition to how the institutional system the main characters live in operates. It's a more satisfying read because of this complexity, I believe.

Have you seen this in movies you've seen or books you've read? What about movies like Night at the Museum, where much of the conflict is driven by the weird magic of that world, although there's a few baddies as played by the old security team. (But even they aren't really "bad guys" but rather trying to achieve their own goals, which are somewhat understandable and sympathetic.)

What other examples can you think of?

Cross-dressing Heroines

I just finished reading the Leviathan trilogy by Scott Westerfeld. They weren’t the best books in the history of time. I mean, I give him an A+ for world building, B+ for characters (especially Deryn), but C+ for plot and C- for Annoying Historical tie-ins (I got particularly annoyed when they went to Mexico).

But still, I read through them like lightening (Tesla cannon lightening, maybe?). I do recommend them as a fun read, especially because the worldbuilding really was fantastic. See, it's 1914, and the world is split between two philosophies: the Clankers (Germany, etc) who favor machine technology, and the Darwinists, who have figured out how to splice DNA and make crazy animal hybrids - such as the giant flying whale that is the airship Leviathan, which is a flying ecosystem all its own.

Okay, my description makes it sound a bit silly. Just go read the description - Westerfeld does a much better job of selling it.

But what really appealed to me about the series was the main female character, Deryn - she's in disguise as a male midshipman aboard the Leviathan airship.

That’s right, y’all: it’s one of the cheesiest plot devices of all time – and one of my very favorites.

Really, I blame Tamora Pierce. I got absolutely addicted to her Song of the Lioness Series when I was in middle school. Alanna is a ten year old girl who disguises herself as a boy in order to become a knight – and ends up becoming a legend in the process.

Of course, with every cliché, there’s ways to do it right, and ways to do it absolutely horribly wrong. Here are a few of my favorite examples of the girls-dressed-as-boys trope.

The Song of the Lioness Quartet, Tamora Pierce

Ah, Alanna. The reason I came up with lots of stories about women who were both mages and swordswomen. Also the reason for my obsession with purple eyes – until I figured out those were a major cliché of their own.

Pros: can you say strong female character? Alanna spends the first two books in her identity as a boy, but then gets to live as herself for the last two books. She’s strong, tough, resourceful – and loves pretty dresses..

Cons: Alas, she’s a bit of a Mary Sue. Case in point: all the men in her life who are in love with her. I mean, the whole Jonathan/George love triangle was kind of central, but then she had to throw in Liam too. And beyond that, Alanna is an expert mage and swordswoman. I suppose it’s a difficult balance – in such male-dominated cultures, women had to be way better than men in order to succeed. But that doesn’t mean they have to be perfect at all things in life. Give your girl-as-boy flaws. No male character is perfect either. And limit the love interests -that’s annoying whether your character is  cross-dressing or not.

Leviathan, by Scott Westerfeld

Pros: Deryn was practically born to be a soldier, minus that whole gender thing. I don’t know why I appreciated that, but it was fun seeing her do every day, ordinary soldier jobs and loving them. Additionally, Alex doesn't start falling in love with her until he finds out she's a girl. I always find it kind of squicky when the male character falls in love before the reveal, because the author often feels the need to have the character wonder if he's "suddenly preferring men"... and that whole thought process has it's major group of issues. 

Cons: Deryn is also a bit of a Mary Sue. And there are inexplicable plot elements that keep placing her at the center of the action: for one, she’s put in command of a mission at some point (?!). No idea why she’d be put in charge given that she was 1) fifteen, 2) a minor officer. Why on earth would she have been put in command, except to make her feel guilt when the mission goes horribly wrong? The girl-as-boy needs to be perfect to the society, not to the readers. Also, readers appreciate spots of realism throughout their fantasy worlds, at least where characters are concerned.

Monstrous Regiment, Terry Pratchett

Pros: Terry Pratchett is one of the few to consider the practicalities. Polly pretends to shave. She learns to, um, answer the call of the wild while standing upright (news flash: it’s apparently possible, ladies! Google it if you absolutely must. I prefer to maintain ignorance on the details). 

All in all, this is one of my favorite Terry Pratchett books of all time - not for my favorite cliche, but because of its discussions of war and politics and idealism.

Cons: There was one big thing about the story that annoyed me, but it’s hard to address without giving away some major, major plot points.

Mulan

Cons: You'll note I'm addressing the cons first this time. It’s a Disney movie. I mean, it’s pretty much all cons, realism-wise: Really? No one figured out she was a girl by the terrible, terrible impression of a man she does? Other questions: how much training do they get? I mean, it seems like it’s about a total of three days, and then they’re suddenly pro soldiers? Do they really all only bathe once in that time? And don’t even talk to me about the cross-dressing scene with the guy soldiers, and apparently how the hero is too manly to join in wearing makeup. *

Pros: It's still one of my favorite Disney movies!

“I’ll get that arrow, pretty boy. And I’ll do it with my shirt on!”

“They came up out of the snow. Like daisies!”

Also, my friend and I sing this aloud to each other on a regular basis.

What are your favorite stories of cross-dressing characters?

*(“You gotta be a man to wear tights!”)

Practice practice practice

I'm still really sad about the death of Anne McCaffrey last week. First 'grown up' fantasy book I read was White Dragon, and I spent many a childhood year longing for a dragon (or fire lizard) of my very own. Worse, her death came not too long after that death of Diana Wynne Jones, one of my all-time favorite authors. Her books convey unparalleled wonder and imagination, and are always great fun to read (see especially Dogsbody, Deep Secret, and Howl's Moving Castle.

But I can without doubt say that there is one author who has had more influence on me than any other, and one who is happily still alive, healthy, and writing. That would be Tamora Pierce.

When I was in middle school, I found the Tamora Pierce's Song of the Lioness Quartet. To briefly sum up the plot, an eleven year old girl disguises herself as a boy to train as a knight. Through the course of the series, becomes a hero and a legend and saves the kingdom in the bargain.

There's lots to like in the series. Alanna is a very strong female character who overcomes many trials and much despair. But she's not one-dimensional or a Mary Sue. There's this really great moment where, despite being one of the toughest knights of the realm, she faints when getting her ears pierced.

The story certainly has served as inspiration for my writing and my determination to write strong female characters. But there's one line that still sticks with me more than others.

In the first book, twelve-year-old Alanna (or "Alan") is frustrated by her small size and lack of fighting strength. But the real blow comes when she has her first sword sparring match, and loses dramatically. She fears that she might never live up to the other boys because of her lack of skill. But then, her guardian says,

"Ye're just not a natural with a sword, Master Alan. Some are born to it… And then there's some that learn the sword."

Alanna takes that advice to heart. She practices every day, despite a crushing schedule of other training, her duties as a page, and hours of other weapons classes. And by the end of the series, she's considered one of the top swordfighters in the kingdom, despite having started out with no natural talent.

(Important point: By talent, I mean an innate skill that can be enhanced by practice more quickly than by a person lacking such talent. Talented people still have to work, they just may get there more quickly).

You see, I've never considered myself a talented writer. I'm not Amelia Atwater-Rhodes, who had her first books published when she was only fourteen, and has published a book every year since. My first stories were really, really terrible. In all ways. In fact, at the age when I was reading the Alanna series as a middle schooler, I was quietly despairing that all my friends seemed to have some talent, something that set them apart, while I was just kind of okay at everything. And into my late teenage years, and beyond, I gained more confidence but still despaired at my lack of natural writing talent.

But then, every so often, I'd think of that quote. And it finally occurred to me, well, maybe I can learn writing. Maybe if I sit down and practice and practice through my college work and tough internship schedule and later grad school and so on, maybe I can get a little better. And you know, I can safely say that I have gotten better over the years. And as for my stereotypically fragile writer's ego, I've now got my skills in science along with those in-progress writing skills to keep me afloat.

And just recently, the one time someone commented that I was talented*, I bristled just a tiny bit. Because really, I've worked hard and come a long way to get to where I am, and it didn't come naturally**. And I still have a long way to go before I win the Hugo, win the Nebula, and save the kingdom from evil. Well, two out of three wouldn't be so bad.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go practice some more.

*My mom, admittedly.

**Cruel truth: that second grade 'best science fiction award' that I like to talk about was actually based off a game my sister invented about ghosts on an island***. More fan fiction, than anything, and not an original creation. Woe!

***Even as an eight year old, I was like, um excuse me adults, this story doesn't meet the definition of science fiction…. In other words, I was talented in geekiness, if nothing else!