Review - Thanksgiving at the Inn by Tim Whitney + Giveaway! 0 comments
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2009-09-30 10:34:00
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Thanksgiving at the InnBy: Tim WhitneyReading level: Ages 9-12Hardcover: 223 pagesPublisher: Bancroft Press (October 1 2009)Language: EnglishISBN-10: 1890862649ISBN-13: 978-1890862640Product Dime ...
Thanksgiving at the Inn
By: Tim Whitney
Reading level: Ages 9-12
Hardcover: 223 pages
Publisher: Bancroft Press (October 1 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1890862649
ISBN-13: 978-1890862640
Product Dimensions: 9.1 x 6.1 x 0.9 inches
In all honesty I'm not really sure where to begin with this review and I don't mean that in a bad way. I loved and adored every aspect and each character in Thanksgiving at the Inn. Geared toward middle school aged readers I wholeheartedly believe that this is a story for adults as well. While reading Thanksgiving at the Inn I was reminded repeatedly of the style of writing of Richard Paul Evans. This is actually saying quite a bit on my part considering that Richard Paul Evans is one of my favorite authors who never ceases to touch my heart. Tim Whitney is most definitely in that league in my opinion. His story Thanksgiving at the Inn touches the heart quickly engulfs the reader within the story and in the end delivers a very valuable lesson that everyone should remember. This is also a story that is not easily forgotten and will remain with the reader long after the final word is read.
Young Heath Wellington III has not had an easy time of it. His mother left a while ago his father isn't the nicest nor happiest of people and now Heath has been suspended from school for cheating - which he did not do. Life just seems to continue to throw curve balls to Heath. When the sudden and tragic death of his estranged Grandfather Heath Senior occurs Heath and his father travel to Whately Massachusetts to fulfill the requirements of Senior's will - to successfully manage Senior's Bed and Breakfast The Sleeping Inn for the next three months. This includes cleaning up and caring for the property as well as the occupants four very different but wonderful people. Each person has their own tragic story however each has also learned the important lesson of being thankful for what they have and the second chances they have been given. Winsted Mustang Sally Carter and Mrs. Ferrel quickly embrace Heath and he them providing that family feeling that he has been so lacking.
Heath and his father are like two bulls constantly butting heads. His father constantly lashing Heath with verbal abuse. When Heath saves a young autistic girl from certain death his father becomes eruptively enraged. This leads to a tragic accident that changes both their lives forever.
Mr. Whitney does such a fantastic job bringing his characters to life and really making the reader care deeply for them. Heath is an exceptional young man whom I adored. His personality and strength are beyond admirable and to be commended especially considering all that he has been through and has to deal with on a day-to-day basis. Winsted the Jamaican resident of the house is brutally wise and honest and such a delight to get to know. He is the chef of the house and seemingly the most in charge of everything that takes place. The other character that I really loved was Mustang Sally. This is a big buff tattooed man who has a heart of gold. Each and every character is fabulous in their own way and play an equally important role within Thanksgiving at the Inn (Yes even the father who you just want to thunk every now and again).
Through tragedy comes understanding hope and thankfulness. Thanksgiving at the Inn is a story that will bloom within the reader's heart making it the perfect read for this time of year or anytime. It is touching beyond words inspirational and impossible to put down.
I do want to address the age level this is geared toward and set forth a slight warning. Thanksgiving at the Inn is written for middle school age children (ages 9-12) however there is some inappropriate language. Parents who are sticklers for this may want to be warned. However it is slight and in no way offensive or crude. That being said I truly feel that adults will revel in this book as well. What a great way to share and get closer with your child by reading and discussing this story. Though Thanksgiving at the Inn does focus around a young boy Heath I feel that this in no way targets the male reader. Rather it is written in a wonderfully universal way that male female young adults and adult will enjoy.
Thanksgiving at the Inn is a must read. It is guaranteed to warm your heart and bring hope alive.
*overall rating 5/5
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I wanted to share a couple of excerpts that I especially enjoyed.
Pg. 48-49 (Heath and Winsted are speaking)
"Heat we all have a secret garden."
Heath stared at him through uncertain eyes. "Secret Garden?" he asked.
"Yes. It's a place deep inside where we bury all tings we want to forget. Our deepest secrets. But keep dem planted too long and dey rot."
I absolutely love this thought!
Pg. 140 - 141:
This is taken from a scene where Sally and Heath are visiting a school for special needs and autistic children. It is also where Heath learns that Sally is an author.
Sally hesitated a moment but then picked it up shooting Savannah a look that said I'll get even with you. Then he signed something that made her laugh.
Sally's animated tale was about a poor circus clown named Happy who loses his makeup mirror. When he uses the funhouse mirror to put on his makeup he accidentally paints his smile upside down. It takes the rest of the day for him to figure out he has to walk on his hands just to get people to laugh.
The children loved it though they must have heard it many times before. They knew exactly where to find Happy on the wall - just left of Sally in fact - and took turns tracing their hands over the smiling clown. One little boy touched the upside-down smile several times before drawing it with a finger on his own face. Almost everyone laughed.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About Thanksgiving at the Inn:
Ever since his mother left life has't been easy for Heath Wellington III. Between his father's (Junior's) bouts with alcoholism and literary rejection and Heath's own wrongful suspension from school there hasn't been all that much to be thankful for.
But following the tragic death of estranged grandfather Senior father and son alike stand to inherit a life-changing fortune . . . with one catch.
Heath and Junior must spend the next three months managing Senior's bed and breakfast located in the same Massachusetts home Junior has spent the last eight years trying to escape.
Upended from his everyday life and relocated to a town where everyone knew and loved the grandfather he can't even remember Heath finds an inn full of some of the strangest people he's ever met such as:
* Winsted the old wise Jamaican man who used to lead the prayers in Senior s factory;
* Mrs. Farrel an elderly woman giving away her late husband's fortune letter by letter;
* Mustang Sally the muscle-bound tattooed grease monkey who doubles as a children's author;
* And Carter the silent TV news junkie and secret Harvard graduate.
And at a nearby school is Savannah Junior's first love and her adorable autistic daughter Tori.
But most of all there's Junior himself vinegar to Heath's oil. As Heath adjusts to his new world what he needs most is to start anew with his father to understand that Junior too is dealing with loss and to realize that even in the most tragic of times there's a lot in life to be thankful for.
Thanksgiving at the Inn is a beautiful story of family and forgiveness and a sure holiday classic. Tim Whitney's fantastic heartwarming debut is one you'll want to read with the whole family for years and years to come.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Where There’s A WILL THERE’S A WAY
“Are you coming down for breakfast or sleeping away
the whole damn day?” Dad barked from the bottom of the
stairs. The echo of his hard voice ricocheted off the walls of
the condo like a basketball in an empty school gymnasium
with such force it should have cracked the plaster.
Rolling over in his stiff bed Heath groaned. Yeah Dad
that’s my plan he thought. Sleep away the whole damn day.
Good morning to you too.
He was almost surprised to see “6:00” on the watch on
his night table. He shouldn’t have been. Dad woke him daily
at 6 a.m.—it didn’t matter if it was a holiday a weekend or
even summer break.
And apparently it also didn’t matter if your grandfather
had just died.
Yesterday had been by any measure a long day. Although
Heath had dozed during most of the five-hour trek from
New Jersey to Dad’s boyhood home in Massachusetts missing
out on most of the beautiful October day and the fiery
orange trees along the highway it was still exhausting—
traveling a long way for an inheritance that didn’t come. At
least not the way either Heath or Dad had expected.
Dreams of his new family lifestyle had played in his mind
for days. Maybe now Dad would buy him the iPod Shuffle
he’d been wanting for months. They could finally get rid
of Dad’s beat-up Volvo wagon and get something better
maybe a BMW like Mike’s dad had or something with a
Hemi.
Heath shivered as a small wave of guilt washed over him.
Someone had died—someone who had his same name. His
grandfather. Heath didn’t really know him so it was hard to
miss him but something had seemed wrong about counting
on his fortune—seeing the death of his grandfather the
man everyone called “Senior” as an opportunity and not a
tragedy.
Now today Heath knew from the tone of Dad’s wake-up
call that he’d be on his case all week. Dad had taken the
week off from his job to attend the funeral but only used
one day—the funeral was in a few days but Heath had no
idea if Dad was planning another trip. So that meant four
days of chores four days of listening to his father’s relentless
nagging and complaining maybe as a matter of course
maybe as punishment for Heath’s suspension from school.
And that in turn meant Heath had to be silent—the best
response to Dad’s baiting.
As Heath reluctantly headed downstairs though he had
to admit he understood Dad’s frustration.
The day before Heath had struggled to remain still as
the warped wooden slat of a very uncomfortable chair periodically
jabbed his lower back keeping him from drifting
off in the attorney’s tired-looking conference room. While
only three days had passed since his grandfather had fallen
from his roof and died Heath hadn’t seen Senior for seven
or eight years and it was strange to think those seven or
eight years would now become forever. It was yet another
part of their lousy life to blame his father for—when Senior
didn’t give his son a dime after selling the factory Dad had
stayed away for good.
It was a struggle for Heath even to remember what
Senior had looked like. The last crisp memory he had was
of the final Christmas they’d enjoyed as a family at his big
Whately Massachusetts farmhouse.
And now the only thing left was the will read by a short
bald lawyer named Lloyd Pierce.
“Good afternoon gentlemen” Lloyd had said in a voice
that sounded like he began each day gargling with gravel.
Lloyd was the friend of his grandfather who’d called them
from the hospital to let them know of Senior’s death.
When Dad had stood to shake Lloyd’s hand the top of
the lawyer’s bald head barely reached Dad’s shoulder.
Though Heath’s dad sometimes spoke about the importance
of hiring a short lawyer Heath could never remember
the connection between skill and size. Lloyd’s height made
him wonder if it was coincidence or if his grandfather had
also been privy to this supposed tidbit of practical wisdom.
Lloyd shook Heath’s hand with a firm squeeze and said
“Shall we get right to the reading?”
“Yes please Lloyd” Dad replied.
Heath watched the dust kick up as Dad plopped back
down in his chair—he had very little patience these days.
Reading Senior’s own words Lloyd cleared his throat
and began. “I Heath Wellington Sr.” read Lloyd “being
of sound mind—well as sound as one may expect at my
age—have spent the last several years reflecting . . . and
contemplating the legacy I will leave my son Heath Wellington
Jr. I have recently come to the unpleasant realization
that I squandered the majority of my life in the pursuit
of material wealth. This lapse of judgment is something I
deeply regret.”
That’s when Heath had begun to suspect that this will
wouldn’t be quite what they’d expected.
It sucked all of it. Heath wished he could press the reset
button on the last week going back to before Senior’s
death and before the suspension he didn’t even deserve
for cheating on a history test he hadn’t really cheated on
not that Dad would understand. No wonder Dad was on
edge—Heath was in a lousy mood himself. Usually this happened
when there were weekend chores to get through or
late-night homework assignments to finish but now that
he was suspended for the next two weeks the schoolwork
wasn’t an excuse. He was just drained.
At the bottom of the steps Heath looked left and right
as if his dad was a monster to be avoided. He tried to savor
these last few moments before he was berated or put to
work or whatever else his dad had planned. He tried to
remember the look on Dad’s face when Lloyd had read the
will.
“Just how much pain I have caused has become more
evident over the last few years” Senior wrote “when I
tried time and time again unsuccessfully to reconcile with
Junior.” Heath’s grandfather had gone by the shorthand
of Senior his dad had always been Junior leaving Heath
and Heath alone with the name they all shared. “I’ve written
letters asking him to bring my grandson to my house
for the holidays” Senior’s will continued. “I’ve sent cards
presents and even money in hopes that he would visit and
find it in his heart to begin to forgive me.”
Heath had stared at Dad then wondering why Heath had
never received any of the cards and gifts. He could understand
why Dad would keep the money but why would he
keep gifts and letters?
It was a shock for sure but not as big as the one Dad got
a moment later when Lloyd read that Dad would receive his
father’s estate if and only if he took “a new direction in
life”—by successfully managing Senior’s Bed and Breakfast
with Heath for the next three months.
“Ech-em” Dad had interrupted. “Help me here Lloyd.
Bed and Breakfast?”
Lloyd nodded. “That” he replied “would be your family
homestead on Cheshire Lane. I believe it’s been in the family
since 1862 and if I am not mistaken it’s where you grew
up. Senior began renovating it three years ago with a man
named Winsted. They turned the old place into a modest
Bed and Breakfast. It’s been catering to mostly unfortunate
souls ever since. At present there are three tenants plus
Winsted living there.”
“Oh . . . this keeps getting better. Just what I need—a
house full of strays.” Dad’s chair screeched on the wooden
floor as he pushed it back and he began pacing the office.
With each turn the scowl on his face became more severe
the furrows of his brow deeper.
Lloyd had asked Dad then if he wanted something to
drink which was a loaded question but Dad fortunately
only asked for water. So did Heath.
Shortly thereafter cracking the cap on his water and
swallowing noisily Dad had said “All right what other nonsense
did the old bastard have lined up for me?”
The “other nonsense” Heath remembered was a laundry
list of stipulations. Dad couldn’t sell the place—if he did
the entire inheritance would go into a trust. He couldn’t
be rude or inconsiderate or nasty to the current tenants—
indeed if the four and only four tenants were unsatisfied
the inheritance again would be lost.
Dad had started pacing then. “Lloyd you’ve got to be
kidding” he said running his fingers through his blond
hair tugging at it in frustration. “Is this some kind of sick
joke my father is playing on me from beyond the grave? One
final slap in the face?”
“I assure you this is your father’s will just as he intended.
I was by his side when he drafted it.” He paused. “While
I’ll admit it is a tad unorthodox this is truly his final legacy.
During the last few months he spoke more and more of his
desire to reconcile with you.”
Without thinking Heath blurted out “What was Senior
like?”
Dad glared. But Lloyd smiled.
“He was tough as aged hardwood” said Lloyd “and driven
by a single purpose: to retire a rich man. His own father
had died a pauper. While he had just a third-grade education
your grandfather reached his goal: He became a savvy
businessman and a millionaire many times—”
“Can you skip the history lesson?” Dad said. “We have
to get back on the road in order to make Jersey by this
evening.”
Heath had sunk into his seat then. It was like Dad was
keeping Senior from him in death as much as in life. And
you called him an old bastard? Heath thought. Look who’s
talking. You kept gifts and cards from your own son.
But Lloyd ran through the rest of it quickly—the weekly
$250 stipend to provide breakfast pay expenses and provide
Heath a suitable allowance. The $200 weekly rent paid
by all four tenants combined. And the requirement that
all chores and everyday tasks be completed by Junior and
Heath and no one else.
And finally Lloyd had withdrawn a lime green envelope
from a pile of papers tapped it twice and slid it across the
table to Dad. “He also wrote you an apology.”
Dad had snatched up the letter grimacing at something
written on the envelope and placed it into a side jacket
pocket shaking his head.
Within minutes of departing the attorney’s office Dad
had decided to return to New Jersey determined never to
set foot in that inn. Forever a creature of habit he’d chosen
to drive late into the night rather than sleep at the nearby
Whately Hotel. They’d left town after grabbing a greasy
burger at a fifties-style diner. During the first hour of the
drive to New Jersey Heath had crashed hard into a dreamless
sleep.
But now forced awake and in the kitchen Heath spotted
several travel-weary banana boxes lining the kitchen counter
like used books on a shelf. Heath yawned as he pulled
the milk from the fridge and sniffed it to be sure it hadn’t
soured.
“Putting some stuff in storage?” Heath asked.
“Not quite” said Dad. And what came next Heath would
never have expected—not after his dad had so clearly and
so angrily made up his mind.
“Get your things” said Dad. “We’re moving out.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wanted to be sure to include a li
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About Tim Whitney:
Tim Whitney grew up in South Portland Maine and now splits his time between Dallas Texas and Whately Massachusetts. He completed his undergraduate degree in Business Administration at Northeastern University and has an MBA from Western New England College. He works as an international manufacturing consultant and vice president of operations for a growing company in Garland Texas. His interests include fishing camping at the Cape snow-skiing and spending time with family and friends. This is his first book. (He can be reached at www.timcwhitney.com or www.thanksgivingattheinn.com.)
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Now for a bit of extra fun! I have an extra copy of Thanksgiving at the Inn to share with one lucky winner!! I am so excited for this opportunity. To enter:
Simply leave a comment telling what you are most thankful for
(2 entries) follow my blog
(3 entries) please tweet or add this contest to your sidebar
Please remember to also leave your email address for contact purposes.
Contest will be open until Oct. 14th with the winner being drawn on Oct. 15th.
Good luck everyone!
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