The Villain Edit by Laurie Devore

Good villains make good TV.

Romance novelist Jacqueline Matthis’s big career has gone bust and she’s ditched the bright lights of New York City for her more affordable South Carolina hometown. Desperate, Jac dreams up a comeback plan—she is going to be a contestant on the 1, the most obsessively watched reality dating show in the world.

After all Jac is a romance writer—she knows how to pull off a meet-cute and create a spicy plotline.

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On set, Jac quickly establishes herself as a front-runner for bachelor Marcus’s heart, but she’s shocked to discover who’s actually pulling the strings. How was she to know that Henry Foster, her last one-night stand before the show, was actually a longtime producer on the 1? Henry is just as horrified…but they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other.

As Jac plays the game and the show unfurls, she slowly discovers that she’s getting the villain edit. They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, but as Jac’s secret plan begins crumbling around her, she’s not so sure. What happens if Marcus chooses her? Worse, what happens if her affair with Henry comes to light? What if, in trying to save her career, Jac has ruined her life?

Heartbreaking, smart, and sexy, this novel is for anyone who has ever secretly rooted for—or felt like—the villain.

Why I Picked It Up

At this point, I've read quite the spray of The Bachelor-esque titles: One to Watch, Bachelor Nation (the sociological explanation), Made for You, etc,. The show and premise are psychologically rich and tense. On one hand, it addresses the basic need most people have for love and connection. But it also simultaneously exaggerates and degrades it (sorry.) The mental anguish is fascinating; the widespread cultural adoration perfectly embodies high-low culture, the dangers of reality TV, and the "performance" of courtship vs. reality. And the right fictional depiction can absolutely do justice to it.

My personal relationship to the show is that of a 20-something girl whose friends like to gather on Mondays to watch (now, and in college, and in camp counselor breakrooms during the summers.) Sure, I'll plop in a beanbag chair with a glass of wine, reach for the nachos, and offer my commentary and psychoanalysis. I like the social aspect of "watching," but wouldn't watch alone. I'm not at all a reality TV gal myself, but appreciate that some of my friends are into it and like the brain-blank break of the weeknight get-together on occasion.

The Villain Edit captures the mechanisms of the show to a tee—appealing to those fans just looking for entertainment and those like me who want to pick apart absolutely everything. Jessi Klein has this incredible essay re: watching The Bachelor in her humor collection, You'll Grow Out of It, that's pretty spot-on.

Bonus: I mostly revisited this review because I wanted to transfer it over before writing my Best Books of 2024 newsletter, but it turns out that the show's new season premieres tomorrow night too. So my timing's accidentally stellar here.

What It's About

The Villain Edit is about a romance author who decides to go on a reality dating show to revive her failing romance series. Already, she's studied up on the characterization and done as much research as possible. She's familiar with branding, charm, and what it "takes" to portray love and ooze sex appeal. Jac knows what works, and how to angle herself for a certain effect—especially with a realistic (some might say cynical) view of the franchise. She's not there to fall in love. She's not there for "the right reasons," but nobody is nowadays.

Within the show (and the book), influencer culture and visibility are intertwined. People are talking themselves into delusions, and confused by the overwhelm of the experience. (The way the show works is by literally inducing Stockholm syndrome and defensiveness and the need to compete—which is why it's so effective.) And Jac gets it.

The twist is that Jac gets the villain edit. Worse, it's after her one-night stand before filming starts. When she walks on set, she discovers that her fling is actually a producer. So their connection is forbidden (oooh, angsty) and they're determined not to risk each others' positions by revealing they already know each other. But then Jac starts to wonder whether he's manipulating her even then, as the producers on the show have a reputation already for being notoriously Machiavellian. The candidates are kept up for hours, unfed and drunk, coaxed into soundbites then "Frankensteined" into dialogue they didn't say, layered over moments divorced from context, to make them sound bad.

Since the reader knows that Jac gets the edit, the tension and uncertainty is actually delicious. I love narration that does an effective job framing and playing with non-chronological snippets without losing tension—some hindsight packaging. On a craft level, I can tell you that's so, so difficult to do well. Wry lines and POV changes keep it snappy and voicey in such an impressive way.

There's not a singular other The Bachelor-style book that does this nearly as well, and that's not even getting into Jac's uncertainty about the actual lead, who seems so good at turning on and off for the cameras that Jac can't tell if she can trust him either. It's nearly impossible for a contemporary narrative to feel as twisty as this one does.

The Characters

It would be so easy to make a book like this flat, and that's why The Villain Edit blew me away. The characterization is incredible because Devore does a fantastic job conveying how Jac's dialogue could come across with multiple meanings. What she and some saw as bold and secure could be misconstrued or misunderstood by others — primed already to distrust her because of competition — which also speaks to how intention and generosity does so much in determining how you perceive someone.

If you go in looking for flaws or reasons to distrust someone, you'll find them. If you go in looking for the best, you'll find that too.

But similarly: just because their interpretation wasn't her intention didn't mean it wasn't her fault. And ah! Chef's kiss. The imperfections of language, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions," etc,. etc,. The way you see yourself might be different than how others see you, but neither one is wrong. That theme is executed perfectly here. Jac committed to what she said, for better and for worse.

I loved the Texan beauty queen and the suspicion of the men and the contrast of Jac's favorite producer being both caring and needing to carry out her job—which means she will be lying at points. The show isn't meant to be easy, but it's still a venture everyone goes into expecting to emerge unscathed because of their genuine intentions. But it doesn't matter if you're the best. The show will do what it needs to.

Voice & Tone

Like I said, The Villain Edit is a voicey book. The narration is sharp and clever and entertaining. Jac had plenty of flaws and a specific way of moving through the world—out for herself but not heartless. Each relationship she conducted (friendship, romance, working) was nuanced in a realistic way while exaggerated in an escapist way satisfying for a fiction of this kind i.e. one I want to read while slathered in sunscreen, collecting tan lines, and with some sort of frozen cocktail.

The Villain Edit operated on multiple levels. You can go beach read all the way and not examine a single thread further (in which case it's a faaaaabulous time), but you can also use it to think a little more deeply about pop culture and first impressions and trust.

I think this would be a fantastic book club pick, especially for a social gathering made up of more reluctant readers. You could chat about first impressions, trust, performance, etc,. What's showmanship vs. genuine, what happens when we assume we know others vs. when we actually listen to them. How relationships are all about picking your preferred challenges. And again, how much your distrust or intention taints your perception as you get to know somebody (and how inescapable that framework is.) Like it or not, it's really hard to reintroduce yourself after people decide what they want to think about you.

As a beach read, The Villain Edit had me addicted to the highs and lows, appreciating the humor and glitter and seduction of the world of the show. It's a magnetic book and, for that reason, will appeal to pretty much every reader (and reluctant reader) looking for a new obsession. I was constantly guessing, and that's a tribute to the execution—because books rarely surprise me in terms of plot. I will undoubtedly read whatever Devore writes next.

Overall

Overall, The Villain Edit hit it out of the park and exceeded my expectations. It was decadent and complicated and well-plotted; the characterization was thorough, exciting, and sensitive to how multiple, contradictory truths can exist at once. And the chemistry's phenomenal? So you could read for a red-hot romance too—but I won't spoil.

I never guessed the details or moments that made it so incredible and so it's a deserving, excellence-defining winner amongst the plethora of similar titles. Out of my most fun books read in 2024, The Villain Edit, um, got the rose? (Sorry, had to.) It really works on multiple levels and has a lot to say—and gives you plenty to relish.

For fans of:

Made for You by Jenna Satterthwaite; One to Watch by Kate Stayman-London; Bachelor Nation by Amy Kaufman; The Chemistry Between Us by Brian Alexander and Larry J. Young; Magnolia Parks by Jessa Hastings; In a Not So Perfect World by Neely Tubati-Alexander; etc,.