Author Notes: Jowita Bydlowska

Jowita Bydlowska

 Jowita BydlowskaJowita Bydlowska published the story “Helen is Not My Friend Anymore” in Fall 2014’s Puritan Issue 27. She was also a featured reader at The Puritan’s annual Black Friday bash. In the following post, Jowita answers our question about the making of “Helen is Not My Friend Anymore.”

About a year ago, I went to a magazine launch party.  At this party, there was a leering kind of man with very bad breath. He spat a little as he talked, too. So he leered, breathed, and spat at me, and I kept thinking about this lovely woman I knew who used to be married to him. She stayed married to him for a while. I wondered what it would be like to be married to him, to kiss him and wake up next to him every morning. I’m sure that despite occasional leering, he was a lovable human being—he is well-respected in his field and has a lot of friends—but (because I’m a jerk?) I imagined that being married to him would be very unpleasant. I couldn’t stop imagining it. When this happens—when I can’t stop imaging something, I end up writing about it.  So I wrote about being married to a man I hated. I don’t hate the man I’m with so I had to become someone else while writing it, too, and eventually that character took over and I just wrote down her thoughts.

In my writing I always try to explore that kind of imagining. Every situation is a “what-if.” This started with my being a child and having to go to church. The mass would last an hour or so. My boredom was immeasurable. Everything moved so slowly. It was the same thing week after week. Same readings. Same whiny old ladies singing. Uncomfortable, upset Jesus on a cross in every corner. I was dying to do something to stir things up. I would sit in my pew and picture myself running toward the altar and throwing myself at the priest, shouting and ripping the funny hat off of his head. This obsessive thought was terrifying. I was convinced I was possessed; it was Satan who was putting the thought in my mind, and one day I would have to do it.  It was around that time that I started channelling those kinds of what-if thoughts into writing. It was that or I’d become a lunatic. I became a lunatic anyway, and an agnostic, but also a writer.

“Helen is Not My Friend Anymore” is going to be included in a trilogy of three novellas that I’m writing.  The trilogy explores male-female relationships, the concept of belonging to a specific place (a city), and also poetry. The working title for the trilogy is Wolves Evolve. The title comes from the poem by Christian Bök called “Vowels”:

loveless vessels

we vow
solo love

we see
love solve loss

else we see
love sow woe

selves we woo
we lose

losses we levee
we owe

we sell
loose vows

so we love

less well

so low
so level

wolves evolve

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