Some of the red flags of lazy villain-building:
1. Moustache-twirling.
You’d think this one would be obvious, but whether it’s social conditioning via Looney Toons and old movies or something else entirely, all too many great authors fall prey to this cartoonish artifice. Moustache-twirling is a category I use for the apparent body-language of a villain: stroking facial hair (if male), filing fingernails, caressing a globe as he openly dreams of world/galactic domination, being ooey-gooey with a favorite pet, eating messily, being either very fat, very thin, very short, or very tall.
2. The laugh.
Villains are apparently quite jolly. This artifice is typically a shortcut for showing some kind of sociopathy. It’s apparently one thing to want to kills lots of people, but it’s quite another to do so with a big ole smile on your face. Gratingly, authors tend to go into lavish detail when describing the villain-laugh: chuckling, har-har-ing, roaring, and the ironic mwahaha are examples.
3. The parade of evil.
Sometimes I wonder how some of these cartoonish villains got as far as they did, given how open they are with their evil tendencies. They might as well have a giant fireworks display of rockets colliding into planets hovering over their heads at all times. From casual threats of murder and genocide to loose morals and addictions, it’s like the author’s trying to convince his readers: “This is a super evil awful guy, see? See?!” by piling on as much apparent evil qualities as he can.
4. The blustery dick-sidekick to the effeminate, ultra-evil true villain.
Sometimes I wonder how this got to be an actual thing. I think it has something to do with latent homophobia/sexism on the part of the author, though that’s a giant can of worms I’m not about to pop at the moment.

An idea might not be original, but a well-thought-out approach surely will be.
Some time ago I read the first fifty pages of Swain’s Techniques of the Selling Writer. It was good; I stopped reading not on its demerits but because I was itching to start a new rough draft. There were lots of gems I took from those first fifty, some enshrined in ink-and-post-it fame on the wall above my desk. One gem above all others has reared its significant head from time to time in my own writing:





