Stephanie–LOVE your comment on the pet-the-dog moment because at times it can become cliche or worse… the reader feels like they’re being manipulated. I think that’s why the poodle example in Silence of the Lambs works so well in my mind, because Buffalo Bill clearly has some misplaced parental instincts toward that dog, which makes sense since his back-story is that he was abandoned by his mother and abused by subsequent parental figures. So while he’s not able to make that human connection with another person, he has that protective instinct (one that was never shown toward him) but he has it for a dog. He calls Precious by name but refers to his victims as “it,” which underscores this idea that he doesn’t think of people as people, but he personifies his dog.

Fiona–That’s awesome that your villain is starting to develop and change. Gotta love it when characters jump off the page like that.

Sally–Just because your villain doesn’t have a pet-the-dog moment doesn’t mean you HAVE to have one. There are other ways to add depth to your villain, for instance by having him or her question what they’re doing.

You do have to take care with pet the dog, though. It can sometimes edge over the border to saccharine and leave the reader with the bitter sense of being manipulated. Nazi with a kitten/puppy comes to mind.

In the episode of the new Doctor Who series 1, “Boom Town,” the Doctor delivers a rather scathing critique of a villain’s claim that she’s not really evil because just the other day she let someone who could potentially ruin her plans get away. It’s a nice twist on pet the dog, because essentially the villain was giving herself a pet the dog moment, in order to feel justified in her murders. If you’re going to give the villain a pet the dog moment, make sure you know exactly what it means for the villain. Why are individual children off limits to this person who’s willing to slaughter nameless thousands? Or, what is so special about that puppy?