When the weather is cold and blustery, would you rather read something is equally wintery? Or something to take you as far away from the snow as possible?
Well, I read Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air during Snowmageddon a few years ago, if that gives you any insight.
I’d read anything at any time of year, really, and the weather doesn’t influence what I will or won’t read. But I do tend to prefer equally wintery–or even more wintery–books because if it’s something summery, especially with sunshine and flowers and beaches, I’m more inclined to lust after it and hate winter. And I already hate winter plenty. If I’m reading something wintery, I’m obviously not gonna be bothered.