Whale Harbor
Cut along the dashed lines and pass the cards around the table.
Where were you when you read most of this, and did the harbor setting start bleeding into your own weather and light?
Was there a small domestic moment (a meal, a chore, a drive, a kitchen conversation) that you found unexpectedly comforting to sit inside?
Whale Harbor is a place people both cling to and resent. What place in your own life pulls at you like that, and how did the book stir it up?
Keane is tender toward people who are not always easy to love. Who did you find yourself quietly forgiving as you read, and did that surprise you?
So much here passes unspoken between family members. Did that silence feel familiar and safe to you, or did it make you want to shake someone?
The sea in this book is both livelihood and threat. What did the water's presence do to your nerves while reading, soothe them or tighten them?
Which character's loneliness stayed with you after you closed the book, and what would you have wanted to say to them if you could have pulled up a chair?
By the final stretch, what had shifted in how you felt about family obligation? Without giving anything away, did the book leave you more hopeful about repair or more at peace with things simply staying imperfect?