5 Books for Someone Who Has Decided to Enter Their Villain Era
"A well-done villain is also one of the trickiest characters to write in my opinion, and nothing is more annoying than a poorly written one." Here are five books for your Villain Era.

"A well-done villain is also one of the trickiest characters to write in my opinion, and nothing is more annoying than a poorly written one." Here are five books for your Villain Era.
Book villains are like airports—normal rules of society just don’t seem to apply. Just like I don’t typically try to nap on a chair or have a drink at weird hours in my daily life, I’m not a fan of real-life villains, but I am very much here for them in book form. A well-written villain makes us feel complicated things about our own humanity, is solid entertainment for the rest of the rule-followers, or serves as a source of inspiration for my cat Olivia. I spend a lot of time wanting to ask people when they’re being jerks, “What happened to you?” and villain origin stories give me an occasional answer to that particular question that persistently plagues me. A well-done villain is also one of the trickiest characters to write in my opinion, and nothing is more annoying than a poorly written one. It is particularly impressive when an author can create someone who makes your skin crawl like Dolores Umbridge or Hannibal Lecter. I don’t want to eat dinner with Lecter, but I also kind of want to know what he’s going to do next to Cersei Lannister, a horrible person and ruler, but a complicated individual in a complex world. On the flip side, there are many other characters who are villainized for who they are and not because of what they have done; that’s much more a reflection on society than the character.
I picked this theme for the month to look at villains in a few ways: stories of actual baddies, the people impacted by villains, and people who are villainized for who they are rather than what they do.
Vera Wong is a lonely, elderly woman who owns “Vera Wang’s World Famous Teahouse” which has only a few true words in the title. One day she wakes up to find a dead body in her tea shop, and as the only one who believes it to be a murder, she takes it upon herself to solve it. She starts to pull together a group of suspects from regulars at her tea shop: Sana, a supposed podcaster, Riki, a supposed reporter, Oliver, the brother of Marshall (the man who was murdered), and Julia and Emma, the wife and daughter of Marshall. They are all struggling in their own ways as they are forced into friendship, first with Vera and then with each other as she works to solve the case and the issues in their lives while feeding them and reminding them they’re murder suspects. It’s a lovely quirky story of a found family with a side of murder mystery.
Naomi survived a murder attempt as a child. She and her two best friends had a secret hideout in the woods where they played a “Goddess Game” when she was attacked by a serial killer. Naomi returns to her hometown after her attempted murderer dies in prison to meet up with her friends and no one is doing particularly well. She starts investigating what might have really happened with the help of a hot gentleman podcaster. He knows some information doesn’t add up, and she’s been hiding the fact that there are gaps in her own memory regarding who really attacked her. It has some twists and turns but does have a poignant and nuanced look at the impact of trauma on memory and the meaning of accountability when there are agendas involved.
This is a book that has multiple timelines and characters that weave together extremely well. Kate is in the present, fleeing an extremely abusive relationship to Weyward cottage that was secretly left for her in her estranged great-aunt’s will. Violet is living during WWII and wants to study insects, but is being forced into a marriage with a terrible man. Then there’s Altha in 1619, waiting in prison for the verdict after being accused of witchcraft and murdering a farmer. It’s a story of generational ties, the pervasive issues of violence against women, and the importance of women supporting women, sometimes even across centuries.
It’s an engaging and entertaining nonfiction book for people who sometimes take a break from reading and like to watch movies and TV shows. The book takes the reader on the complicated journey of the pressure for “likability” and “relatability” that is placed on female characters in a way that it never is on male characters who instead get to be called “complex.” It covers nine different archetypes: The B*tch, The Mean Girl, The Angry Woman, The Slut, The Trainwreck, The Crazy Woman, The Psycho, The Shrew, and The Weirdo. It pulls examples from characters associated with these archetypes from Cersei Lannister and Regina George to Villanelle and Harley Quinn, and how the audience tends to receive them. It’s an argument for the continued growth of complicated, multi-dimensional female characters that don’t need to be likable when they can just be interesting to watch.
I was genuinely creeped out by this book: it has the unreliable narrator of Girl on the Train, with the obsessive stalking of Ingrid Goes West. Roach (tough nickname) works at a bookstore and is obsessed with serial killers. Laura starts working at that same bookstore and is bubbly, but with solid avoidance and alcohol coping methods due to some intense familial trauma of the true crime variety. She immediately hates Roach because of the serial killer obsession, but Roach grows increasingly obsessed trying to figure out and connect with Laura through their shared, but very different, ties to the true crime genre. It looks at coping with loneliness (not through any healthy means of course), but also the opposing views of the true crime genre as revealing humanity’s truths versus exploiting the pain of the victims.
Kaitlin Porter is the writer and curator of 2catsandabook. Along with her two cats, Olivia and Weasley, and other furry friends, Kaitlin shares themed book recommendations and reviews every month.