A year ago, I was at the LA Times Festival of Books with my son. Wandering around, I came upon a huge vinyl banner that asked, "What are you reading?"
At any given moment, I may be in the middle of reading three or more books, a handful of magazines, and a blog reader that taunts me with 1000+ unread posts. So I clearly remember standing there last year, scanning the hundreds of book titles scribbled on the wall, drawing a blank as to what books I was currently reading.
After about ten minutes, the only title I could think of was "The Girl Who Played With Fire" by Stieg Larsson.
I never did finish the book. But I suppose I could say I'm still in the middle of reading it.