Rob Kiefer

How Much Bigger?

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 17:18:00 +0000

"Four months later, Riley wasn't much bigger than he had been when he first made his appearance in the world" (Kiefer 4).

How much bigger are any of us, really, than when we first made an appearance in the world? If size is measured by bone inches shifted, sure, we're all enormous comparatively. But if size is measured in terms of heart knowledge and heart expression: joy, peace, curiosity, desire to learn, desire to express, creativity, courage, honesty, none of us have really grown and some of us have shrunk.

I don't feel any more bold than when I was a kid. I don't feel any more sincere, or inspired, or motivated, or talented. I have learned how to adapt to a foreign and hostile environment. But that's not growth. Those are war tactics. My actual growth is measured in terms of how I am able to deflect the worldly things that come at me to protect the childhood things I came into this world owning. So, really, this is maintenance.

How much bigger are any of us? We learn how to weave around jammed traffic. We learn how to swear at bad drivers from our windows. We learn how to convince a crowd that we're telling the truth (while lying, maybe). We learn how to smile for the camera and then return to frowning at our manager. We learn how to shirk familial responsibilities while upholding career responsibilities. We learn how to unlearn the nonsense we've been taught since we arrived.

Biologically Bonded: Parents and Kids

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 20:17:00 +0000

Early in The Calling Gus compares his "tied-down" parental life to the free single life of other birds in the colony, temporarily longing for liberation.

I babysit often and enjoy it, but even I, not being a parent, not being with the kid for dinner and for bed-time routine and for morning-routing and for every other menial task in between, grow tired and occasionally lose my patience. I wish the kid would stop pointing to every single little thing with genuine awe and interest and asking beautiful self-exploring socially-inclusive questions about it. I wish sometimes that I didn't have to participate, I could just cart the kid from this point to that point, make sure he stays alive, and get paid. But even THAT can be tiresome because the kid is dragging behind five paces and your arm from holding his hand is about to snap and he's wobbling between the street and the curb and he falls and scrapes his knee and starts crying. And we're just trying to get to the car.

Every parent (that I know, at least) experiences this frustration at some point. However, these parents are biologically programmed to give as much as they possibly can to their kids as frequently as they can. He is a piece of you. Your face is in his face. If you want to yell at him, it's like yelling at yourself. This makes the enormous sacrifice of being a parent bearable. This is what keeps Gus, I'm sure, from flying away from Riley.

What About That Voice?

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Tue, 03 Apr 2012 22:20:00 +0000

Early in The Calling, the concept of a small voice inside that guides the purple martins to migrate is introduced. The reader quickly extends this "calling" to himself, as a human, and the gut (instinct or guidance?).

I think we have all at some point experienced The Calling. It's a feeling, like bees swarming in the intestine, or in the heart, or in the head. It's a whispering, an idea that won't leave, a phrase you keep hearing perhaps: "do this, do this." And you think, is this me? Or is this a calling?

As I have experienced callings, they're pretty hard to pin-point. I have learned that sometimes the gut is responding to inaccurate interpretations. For example, you heard that someone is a murderer, and your GUT tells you to leave his presence. Well, it obeyed your head, that's all. Other times, though, you have not heard that someone is a murderer and your gut tells you to leave, and most likely, there's good reason.

I believe it's important to test The Calling. If we did every single thing we thought we were being guided to, we might all be dead. But if we ask ourselves, where is this coming from? Have I devised this? If so, what purpose does it serve? Should I listen? What are the consequences of doing this? What are the consequences of not doing this? Can I stand to live tomorrow without doing this? (If your answer is "no" to that one, it's definitely a type of calling!)

I've found The Calling to be like waves, coming, going, not always carrying you somewhere, sometimes just nudging.

The Gossip

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 18:28:00 +0000

In Riley the purple martin's colony, there is a well-known gossip named Voris. One morning as Riley is contemplating the new conflict between what he wants and what his parents want, Voris joins him. Riley confesses to the reader that he simply tolerates Voris to be nice, but doesn't actually like him.

Voris begins trying to pry information from Riley. The annoying thing about this, of course, is that when you're upset, the insensitivity of a gossip searching for juicy tidbits is offensive. Riley even says to Voris, "I don't want to talk about it" and though Voris responds with "I wouldn't think so" (Kiefer 16) he remains next to Riley waiting. Eventually, he says, "You know, it might make you feel better to talk about it" (Kiefer 17).

I have met so many people like Voris! They squirm with unresolved intentions. Silence kills them. They need some sort of validation for their own existence. It is as if the disaster of others' lives ensures them momentarily that their own disaster of a life is more tolerable. The problem is that disasters settle eventually, are made whole, are made useful, are understood, are overcome, and when they are, The Gossip must either create a new one (by lying) or by simply being a silly creature whom with his awkward presence can ignite new conflict . . . to gossip about.

I Hope I Never Understand

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 02:35:00 +0000

Early in the novel, Riley's mom, Yara, is explaining to Riley why he can never bring an "outsider" like the pigeon Hilton into their colony to care for him when he is wounded. She uses some faulty reasoning quite typical amongst parents who have slipped into a "that's just how it is" mentality. Yara says he could be diseased. Riley says he doesn't look diseased. Yara says, Well, even if he's not, he won't leave after we've helped him. He'll stay and be a nuisance. Creatures like him are simply "no good." Riley asks how she knows this. She says, "Because that is the way it has always been" (Kiefer 15). Well, who told her that? And how did whomever told her that know for sure that pigeons are no good?

An important question about judgment is risen here. Who is to judge and how are their judgments made valid? Riley is pure hope, pure love. He is like God, looking at a sick person, seeing the person already well. He knows what it's like to have a disadvantage since he has been so small his life and has had to work extra hard at learning how to fly and keep up physically. He has compassion and faith in the power of caring.

Finally Riley's mother abandons the topic by offering that rote reply so many of us receive from elders as children: "You will understand when you are older" (Kiefer 16). Except instead of being like, "Okay. I guess you're right" Riley admirably mumbles, "I hope I never understand something like that" (Kiefer 16). Brilliant! He is recognizing a calloused heart and rejecting it as an option for himself in the future. There are many things children DO understand and benefit from understanding when they are older--why patience is important, why there are safety precautions. But there are other things children may never and should never understand, such as rejecting someone "just because."

Meditation on Friendship

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Tue, 13 Mar 2012 00:32:00 +0000

Friendship is a major theme within The Calling. As the often strained but nevertheless persistent relationship between the two main characters, Riley (a purple martin) and Hilton (a pigeon), develops within Kiefer's adorable yet gripping debut novel, a meditation on reality also develops. The meditation is this: as a friend, where does one's loyalties lie? How should one behave? And why?

Riley is torn between his devotion to his family, their ideas, and their traditions, and the new urge to help an outsider in need. His family, a clan of birds called the purple martins, is making their annual migration soon, which will be his very first migration experience. Days before this migration, he discovers a "dirty, dangerous" (according to his family) pigeon blown in from a storm, wounded. Conflicted between his idea of righteousness and his family's obsession with survival--with including no outsiders--he chooses to help the pigeon, Hilton.

As with all major relationships, twists and subtleties abound in the two birds' new relationship. Starry-eyed about his good deed and newfound friendship, Riley quickly discovers the bitter aftertaste so many of us do: he was used. He was never wanted as an individual. Now he must decide if his decision retains value regardless of this betrayal as well as how to regard his "friend" from here out. Is friendship dependent on another's actions or is it a devotion independent of factors beyond one's control? Is love a choice or an exchange?

Punkin House: All things new- usually have problems =)

noreply@blogger.com (ADMIN) — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 19:26:00 +0000

Punkin House: All things new- usually have problems =): "Hey world! Things are looking up for Punkin House! We are moving at lightning speed, as usual. And with that, comes errors. Lets put this ..."

Punkin House: Our Final Facelift

noreply@blogger.com (ADMIN) — Wed, 26 Jan 2011 17:45:00 +0000

Punkin House: Our Final Facelift: "Hey World! Check out our new look....Um, again! We finally have all of our buttons updated, though I think we are having an issue with th..."

noreply@blogger.com (Rob) — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 23:29:00 +0000

I think my favorite character in the book has to be Backus. I'm not sure his character is modeled after anyone I know. I never really had a grandfather in my life, but I suppose he represents what I would have wanted in one. When we first meet him in the story he seems to be crusty and even a bit of prude. He is serious about his role as a leader in the colony and expects everyone to understand how important he is.

Even though he may have some not-so-lovable characteristics, I still find myself really liking him. I think its because he really believes in who he is, and that makes it easier to believe in him. And, of course, in the end, his true character is revealed. I mean when he . . . Oh, wait, I don't want to give that much of the story away! I guess you better get to reading!

noreply@blogger.com (Rob) — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 20:11:00 +0000

I often get asked how I came up with the idea for The Calling. It is difficult for me to explain without sounding a bit off my nut, but I'll give it a try. I'm sure writers have their own way of developing stories. Some take a very business-like approach and outline and prewrite, and all that other good stuff that was taught to them by some well-meaning english teacher. That has never worked for me.

Believe it or not, I actually hear characters talking to me in my head. They kind of pop up on their own and beginning telling me a story. Sometimes they don't stick around very long, and I never really get a chance to do anything with them. However, some, like Riley, the main character in The Calling, won't leave me alone until I put something down on paper. Sound crazy? Yeah, I know, but that really is how it works for me.

Debut Novel

noreply@blogger.com (ADMIN) — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 01:41:00 +0000

The Calling began, like so many of the stories that I write, as a voice somewhere in the recesses of my brain. As strange as this may seem, it is true. The voice continued to whisper to me, to grow in volume and urgency, until the little bird who would become Riley, the main character in the story, could no longer be ignored. Once I began to put words to paper, the story flowed as naturally as the river I used to play alongside as a boy.

I am so proud that I have finally found a professional outlet for my writing. My hope is that by reading what I create, others will be able to smile, laugh, and maybe even cry. Good writing is about pulling the reader into the story and pulling emotion out of them. I just hope those who decide to pick up something I have created enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Read More.....

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