My best memory of reading during noteworthy weather involves a thunderstorm, a candlelit kitchen table, Harry Potter, and a goblet of fire. Hogwarts was so removed from flash-flooded Albany that reading about it in an atypical setting (with fire in it! like the goblet!) really did make me feel transported. For the duration of the book, getting the electricity back didn't seem to matter.
I just read Trapped, by Michael Northrop. It's an interesting elevator-play sort of scenario, and I was glad to read it, but my timing probably could have been better. Reading a story about people stranded in an epic snowstorm, especially a story that immediately announced it would not end well, made me feel a bit skittish. For one thing, I was honestly a little worried that I would get the teens' snow survival strategies confused with tips I've read on preparing for Irene.
Reading, for me, is not usually about escapism; many of my favorites are realistic stories that could happen to me or to someone I know. But when there's something to escape, particularly something that may keep me in one place for a while, then give me a story that takes place, in some sense, far away.
Eager as I am to read The Other Side of Dark, which is next in the pile, I think a creepy tale set here in Brookline is better suited for later in the week. The Notorious Benedict Arnold it is!
Hope this weekend finds you safely curled up with a good book.