It’s no good.  I just can’t love writing a book without putting a creepy bad guy in it. 

“Bill Sikes and Bullseye”, an illustration by Fred Barnard

As I worked my way through the draft of my latest novel, a mystery, something seemed to be missing.  So, I reworked the protagonist, turning her into a once-reckless whitewater rafting guide who has, for reasons that will become evident (no spoilers!), sought a safer landscape.  I really like her. She’s got more grit than she realizes.

But still, I needed more to drive my writing.  Okay, I have a robust protagonist. And I have the plot, a murder mystery that will keep the reader guessing until the end.  There’s a little more romance than you’ll usually find in my books, and this brings its own special angst. But still, I really needed something else.

Finally, I realized it. I was missing the bad guy that I secretly love but want everyone else to hate. I already had a villain in the plot, sure – a couple of them, in fact — but he wasn’t THE bad guy, the quirky one with a host of unflattering traits who still manages, given just a small turn of the wrench, to have some likable characteristics. In this case, he’s a dubious low life who doesn’t hesitate to scam people for a living, who is completely out for his own self-interest and is capable of being downright dangerous.

Yet, he does have his likable side, not the least of which is that he adores his pudgy, sweet mutt. She’s chunky and white, but this mild-mannered mutt is nothing like like the brutal, white terrier owned by one of the baddest baddies, Bill Sikes in Oliver Twist. In fact, she’s based on one of my own dogs, a really good dog, who spent 15 years attached to me, and vice-versa, during my teen/early adult years.

So, now that I have started giving my bad guy his due, I feel that all is right in my writing world, and it’s coming together in a way that is as much fun for me to write as I hope it will be for you to read. 

It’s time I admit it. Those bad boys get me every time.