It's official. No, it's not official, but here on the books desk it feels like summer's really over. It may be fairly warm outside - hell, it's not even raining - but with August turning rapidly into September, we're not fooled, not even by the silly season's last gasp.

We've had the first of those "autumn must-reads" stories, we've had longlists from the Booker and the First Book Award. There was even a piece about Christmas in the Bookseller already.

So in a spirit of nostalgia for the sort-of-summer gone by, we'd like to know: what happened to all those summer reads you were planning on? Did anyone go to Aran and read Stones of Aran? Or Marseille for Jean-Claude Izzo?

Personally I've been reading Hari Kunzru, Amelie Nothomb and Philip Reeve (I know, I know, but I gave it to a child, and wanted to check if it was suitable). How 'bout you?