In Spooky Stories, Middle-Grade Villains Are the Best Villains
Author T.C. Kemper makes a case for why middle-grade villains are the best villains…especially in spooky stories.
It’s a classic childhood rite of passage: reading a spooky story under the covers with a flashlight.
Long after your parents had gone to bed (or, perhaps, not so long), you’d click on that thin beam of yellow light for just one more chapter. For me, it was the smuggled, frayed copies of my older brother’s Goosebumps books,their covers almost too terrifying to look at, yet too intriguing to ignore.
Iconic authors like R.L. Stine introduced me to cursed cameras, haunted masks, and creepy ventriloquist dummies. But I also grew up with a healthy mix of epic fantasy tales spanning distant worlds littered with shadows and swords. I inhaled harrowing mysteries that thrilled with tantalizing twists I never saw coming. I anxiously chewed my fingernails to shreds as sci-fi heroes ran from ooze-drippy aliens. In the end, I found that most of the books I loved had that gasp-worthy moment, that spine-tingly chill. Even, of course, if it robbed me of some much-needed sleep.
No matter the exact genre, what makes a spooky story truly sing is the villain. And, in my opinion, middle-grade book villains are the best. They’re the ones that swoop in with high, maniacal laughter, commit dastardly deeds with swift-handed confidence, and loom larger-than-life with velvet capes and slick smiles.
Middle-grade fiction is the ultimate sandbox for an author—it allows the freedom to explore and celebrate the oddball, the absurd, and the downright ridiculous. This rings especially true for its villains. Mix in some spectral spookiness? Add an unsettling tattoo, or some terrifying curse? You’ve got yourself the recipe for a great time. In a safe environment crafted entirely of ink-stamped pages, these villains introduce young readers to danger: how to identify it, how to feel about it.
And, most importantly, they teach kids how to be brave.
When I set out to write The Ginghams, my spooky middle-grade debut, I wanted to pen a different kind of villain to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the greats. A villain who wasn’t so grand or looming or cape-billowing. Though I’ve always loved those (and their defeats!), I knew my story needed the opposite.
Check out T.C. Kemper's The Ginghams here:
I was inspired by the insidiousness of The Stepford Wives. In a postpartum haze shortly after the birth of my son, I turned to a comfort watch: the 2004 film adaptation starring Nicole Kidman and Matthew Broderick. The Stepford story was just as thrilling as ever, but it hit me a bit differently this time.
In an era of accelerating censorship, sprawling technology, and a movement to force people back into “traditional” gender norms, I found myself with a fire in my belly. I wanted to write a book with a villain that stood for total control, for the pursuit of “perfection,” and I wanted him to wield realistic, authoritarian propaganda with the quiet, bright smile of your next-door neighbor. I wanted him to be unassuming. Hidden in plain sight.
And I wanted his takedown to be glorious.
Because in spooky stories, the scariest villains aren’t always the ones chasing you through a graveyard with lightning shooting from their fingertips (though those are very fun!). Sometimes, they’re the ones that blend in. The ones that grin at you above a starched button-down shirt with the calm ease of a camouflaged predator. The ones determined to steal your individuality, or silence your voice, or take away your freedoms before you even notice.
I hope young readers will find their bravery in the face of that kind of villain, too.
