It’s Day 17…and we’re getting a little bit deep and philosophical today.
Which is perfect, because something has come up a few times (and came up very clearly in an email thread I had yesterday): this Hero’s Journey structure can sound like it’s built for fast-paced thrillers: high stakes, big tension, action, battles.
But, it’s important to note: this structure works for any narrative story that contains transformation, including memoir and narrative non-fiction.
Your “adventure” doesn’t have to be physical. Your obstacles don’t have to be loud. Your trials don’t have to involve a chase scene, a war, or a villain with a cape.
Your journey can be internal. It can be psychological or a slow burn. It can be about grief or identity. It can be a marriage unravelling or just one conversation you keep avoiding. It can be a memory that keeps resurfacing until you finally face what it means.
Every single part of this framework still applies; it just changes how it shows up on the page.
The only stories that don’t fit this structure are the ones that are deliberately anti-narrative or overtly experimental in a way that refuses transformation and refuses meaning-making. And based on everyone I’ve spoken to in this challenge, that’s not what you’re writing.
So if you’ve been thinking, I don’t know how this fits my story because my story isn’t an action story, please email me. It fits. We just need to translate it into the kind of journey you’re actually writing.
Okay. With that said: today’s topic is the villain.
Villain vs ally vs enemy
Yesterday we talked about allies: your supporting cast, your side characters, your helpers.
But here’s what we didn’t fully touch on: sometimes an “ally” can also behave like an enemy. They can complicate things. They can sabotage. They can mirror the Hero in a painful way, and they can block progress without being a true villain.
That’s why I didn’t emphasise “enemies” yesterday. These roles can overlap. Not every ally is good, and no one in a good story is neutral. Everyone is doing something to the Hero and to the plot, whether that impact is helpful or harmful.
So today, we’re talking about something slightly different: the villain.
The villain doesn’t have to be Voldemort
Your villain does not have to be a big, scary person. It doesn’t have to be a Darth Vader figure or Voldermort or a huge dragon that needs to be defeated. It can be, of course, but it doesn’t have to be.
A villain can be:
a belief
a habit
an addiction
a role the Hero can’t escape
a past event that still has power
a social structure
a way of thinking that keeps the hero trapped
In other words: the villain can be internal.
The villain is the “big bad” of the journey—the thing that most powerfully stands in the way of the Hero becoming who they need to become. It’s the force that tries to keep them in the want, and keep them away from the need.
And here’s the key: the villain often mirrors or opposes what the hero needs.
If your Hero needs to step into leadership, the villain will tempt them to stay small.
If your Hero needs to tell the truth, the villain will offer silence.
If your Hero needs to let go, the villain will tighten their grip.
And the villain always believes it is right.
Because: villains don’t see themselves as villains. They see themselves as justified. Necessary. Protective. Reasonable. Even good.
One of the exercises we do in the Academy is telling the story from the villain’s perspective, because from the villain’s point of view, the Hero is the villain. That reversal will teach you a lot.
The villain is not one confrontation
Another important point: the villain isn’t only something that shows up at the end.
The villain is a constant pressure throughout the story. It builds and lingers and shapes the atmosphere.
Think about Harry Potter: Voldemort is present long before we truly meet him. He is the reason the world is the way it is. He’s in the fear, the rules, the silences, and the warnings. He’s the pressure.
If your villain is internal, it works the same way. The belief, the addiction, the self-protective lie—it’s present throughout. The Hero may deny it. They may rationalise it. They may not name it yet. But we feel it. And we know it has to be faced.
Common mistakes to avoid
A few consistent mistakes I see:
the villain only appears at the end (we need the pressure earlier)
the villain is “evil” just because the story needs one (you don’t need evil — you need opposition)
the villain has no clear goal (even an internal villain is trying to protect something, preserve something, control something)
the villain isn’t connected to the Hero’s flaw (they need to be two sides of the same coin)
Know your villain as well as you know your Hero. Whether it’s a person, a system, or an inner belief, it has a history. It has logic and leverage.
Your task for today
In the comments below, tell me:
Who (or what) is the villain of your story?
What is the force that is constantly present—the thing that most actively keeps your hero from transforming?
Reflection prompt
For the chat, the comments, or your journal:
How does the villain tempt the Hero to stay the same?
If it’s internal: what does it promise? What does it protect them from?
If it’s external: what does it offer that makes the old self feel safer than the new one?
This is a deep one, so take your time with it.
And remember: if you’re writing something subtle and emotional and you’re not sure how to translate these pieces into your kind of story, email me. I love those conversations.
I’ll see you tomorrow. And don’t forget that we’re taking another breather on Day 20, so plan ahead for that.
Have fun!
Xx Shelly
