Rick Rawes

Redemption. The word itself is entangled in its own ambiguous identity. What is it, and is it truly different from atonement? From justice? From vengeance? Is it something to strive for or something granted by those we have wronged? As such, is it something that is achieved, or something that is bestowed, and does it follow a straight path, or does it loop us back to who we were before the sin?

While writing Sinners & Saints (releasing July 3rd *wink wink*), the theme frequently arose for me (well, for the characters inhabiting this fictional world). But as often happens, the themes discussed and the ideas that emerged reflected much of my own experiences – enough to get me thinking about the concept of redemption as a whole.

In the end, I’ve come to understand that redemption is not the straight road it might seem. Nor does it bring us back to who we once were. We are not purged by redemption; the blood still stains our hands. But as we carry on along our winding journey, we learn to live with the stains.

An Unexpected Journey

By its very nature, redemption must follow the fall. The first act, the event that triggers the loss of innocence. Sometimes this might be one single act – an act so treacherous and tragic that an immediate response is necessary. Sometimes it is a thousand small cuts to one’s character, gradually transforming someone into a person others would no longer recognise.

For many of the ‘villains’ I write about – some already such when we meet them, others more developed over time – those actions are not always entirely wrong. The journey may begin before we even realise our feet are moving – actions that destroy, hurt, or reveal darker truths about ourselves. But they are still our actions, and in doing so, we are often blind to the impact they have.

In fact, rationalisation is by far our worst irredeemable trait. We tell ourselves we are doing what we must or what we should. It’s only afterwards, when the dust settles and the blood begins to dry, that we recognise it for what it is. The next step in the journey.

A Realisation

To begin to redeem yourself, the first step is recognising that what was done is wrong. This might seem simple, but it is far from easy. In fact, it is the part of the process that is as necessary as death is to resurrection – painful, yet essential for what is to come.

Many of us do not realise that this is how it should be. We cling to the idea that what has happened cannot be changed. There is no acknowledgement or recognition of the hurt caused. This is what makes villains irredeemable. If we cannot move ourselves away from the belief that our actions were justified, then we leave no opportunity for the light to shine through. Our journey ends here.

That is not to say we must accept that it shouldn’t have happened. Often, characters will know there was no alternative, but it does not matter. The effect is what matters. The pain is what matters. The impact on another person or persons—that is what counts. That makes the difference between acknowledging you have done wrong and accepting the full cost of it.

A Fork in the Road

So, what’s next? We reach a fork in the road. One path loops us back on ourselves, but like some critical point, it can never take us back before the sin. Instead, it leads us into our own logically disordered thinking and self-justification. The direction depends on where redemption comes from and whom it is for. It is when we are asked the question, how can I do better?

We can justify our actions to ourselves, apologise without admitting fault, and write entire memoirs explaining why we did what we did. Our villains often behave the same way. They see a choice between truth and taking the easier route, and choose to sleep better at night. Or at least, their version of better.

The other fork leads us down a harder path – confronting it. With the very real possibility that there is no reward at the end, no bright future, no day when you can say ‘I am clean’. You and your villains must accept that possibility, that your understanding of what has been done is by itself not enough to undo the hurt that has been caused. It is up to them, the ones you have hurt, to forgive you or not.

All you can do is stand proud, tall, and honest. Try to do the right thing, the better thing, the new path. Fail. Get back up. Try again. Fail again. And so on, each time getting closer to something that feels… right.

A New Beginning

When we, like our characters, find ourselves in need of redemption, many of us wish things ‘would go back the way they were’. We would like to undo the past and return to a world where we never caused harm. But that’s not how redemption works in real life, so it shouldn’t be how it functions for our characters.

We walk, hand in hand with the memories of our actions, both good and bad. We are shaped by them, forged into the person we are now. We reach the end of one journey and realise that beyond us is a winding road leading to the next stage. Onward still. There is no back again, there is only there, some spot on the horizon that guides us eventually to the clearing at the end of the path.

This is why, when I write about trauma, villains, or heroes, they carry their pain and experiences with them. Chapter after chapter, book after book, story after story.

Because even when I am writing redemption, I can never unwrite the stories that got them there. I can only, like myself, move ever forward, towards something new. Towards the horizon.

Rick Rawes
Leeds, West Yorkshire
8^th May 2026