My friend Jeff Tsuruoka recently posted a blog with his answers to this AUTHOR SURVEY. I couldn't  help myself but to copy/steal from his example...

Author(s) You've Read the Most Books Of:
I don’t know why I’m ashamed to say it, but probably Stephen King. William Shakespeare is probably next. After him it’s most likely Michael Marshall/Smith

Best Sequel Ever:
THE UPRIGHT MAN from THE STRAW MEN TRILOGY by Michael Marshall Smith. If you haven’t read these books, make sure to put them on your TBR pile ASAP!

Currently Reading:
In alphabetical order:

1.     Blood Meridian – Cormac McCarthy
2.     Dead of Knight – Nicole J Persun
3.     Do I Bother You At Night - Troy Aaron Ratliff
4.     Fugue State – Brian Evenson
5.     Harbor – John Ajvide Lindvist
6.     Hear No Evil – Terry Persun
7.     How To Market A Book – Lori Culwell
8.     On The Gathering Storm – Jason McInTyre
9.     Penpal – Dathan Auerbach
10.  Perdido Street Station – China Mieville
11.  Reamde – Neal Stephenson
12.  Scorch Atlas – Blake Butler
13.  Songs From The Phenomenal Nothing – Steven Luna
14.  The Emperor of All Maladies – Siddhartha Mukherjee
15.  The Maltese Falcon – Dashiell Hammett
16.  The Ocean At The End Of The Lane – Neil Gaiman
17.  The Sorrow King – Andersen Prunty
18.  The Water Sign – Casey Samulski
19.  This Plague of Days – Robert Chaz Chute
20.  We Are Here - Michael Marshall Smith

Drink of Choice While Reading:
Coffee or bourbon. But moist often I just have iced tea.

E-Reader or Physical Book:
Physical Books for sure. While E-Readers make taking many books with you a lot more convenient in the same way that MP3 Players do for music, to me they lessen the intrinsic value of the art. $.99 for a book or a song is a swift kick in the pants to the artist. So much time, work and heart go into creating. As a society we don’t value that anymore. That’s why electronic media theft is so prevalent. But mainly, I just love the smell and feel of a physical book in my hands. I enjoy the act of turning the pages. Plus, the heft of a book can let my arms know when they’re tired and it’s time to stop reading and go to bed.

Glad You Gave This Book a Chance:
MOBY DICK. Most of the classics we were assigned to read in school left me bored and uninspired. MOBY DICK wasn’t even on the list of books we were “supposed” to read. I picked up a dollar copy at a used bookstore just for the hell of it. Captivated by the first page, MOBY DICK became one of my all time favorite books. If you haven’t read it, you really should.

Hidden Gem Book:
THE DESCENT by Jeff Long. What if Hell was a real place and the Devil was real? Stumbling into the darkness, humans search through a labyrinth of caves that stretches its tentacles throughout the globe. In search for the First Word, they find truth behind myths and legends. Terrifying and nightmare inducing. Not for the faint of heart. I loved every word. The sequel DEEPER is pretty great as well. Eagerly anticipating the third entry in the trilogy.

Important Moment in Your Reading Life:
Sitting alone at home reading PET SEMATARY. Finishing the very last page as our cat jumped on my lap scaring the crickeys out of me! That’s when I fell in love with the horror genre.

Just Finished:
N0S4A2 by Joe Hill and THE FIGHTER by Craig Davidson.

Kind of Books You Won't Read:
Most Fan Fiction.  I never find them as entertaining as the real thing if you ask me.

The Twilight series and anything else that “Romancizes” the horror genre.

Longest Book You've Ever Read:
THE TALISMAN by Stephen King and Peter Straub. INFINITE JEST by David Foster Wallace.

Major Book Hangover Because Of:
HOUSE OF LEAVES by Mark Z. Danielewski. That story stayed with me for months after I finished it. In fact, it haunts me to this day. I read it at least once a year.

Number of Bookcases You Own:
One. We have a very small place. :-(

One Book You've Read Multiple Times:
I can’t pick just one so I’ll give you three:  

i think i've overloaded myself a bit. i'm in the middle of edits for my new collection of short stories, writing my next novel, hanging out with the kidlets for their last few weeks of summer break and attempting to read all of these at the same time. maybe somehow I’ll figure out a way to clone myself so i can get all these words shot into my brain box at the same time. 

here's my current list of reads in alphabetical order...

Dead of Knight - Nicole J Persun
Do I Bother You  At Night - Troy Aaron Ratliff
Fugue State – Brian Evenson
Harbor – John Ajvide Lindvist
Hard Boiled Wonderland & The End Of The World – Haruki Murakami
Hear No Evil – Terry Persun
How To Market A Book – Lori Culwell
Mo’ Betta Blues – Questlove
On The Gathering Storm – Jason McInTyre
Penpal – Dathan Auerbach
Perdido Street Station – China Mieville
Scorch Atlas – Blake Butler
Songs From The Phenomenal Nothing – Steven Luna
The Ocean At The End Of The Lane – Neil Gaiman
The Sorrow King – Andersen Prunty
The Water Sign – Casey Samulski
This Plague of Days – Robert Chaz Chute
We Are Here - Michael Marshall Smith

What are you reading right now?

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
 
On the surface, House of Leaves is three different voices telling tales springing from the same story. It’s the dark tale of a family moving into in a new home when they find it larger on the inside than on the outside. Oh yeah, and it’s growing. One version is a documentary that the photo journalist patriarch of the family made called “The Navidson record”. The film depicts events occurring during their move, along with resulting horrors they discover. Another version of the story is written on random scraps of paper, index cards and typed out by the hands of an old blind man’s assistants in an attempt to describe the film. Finally, we read from the diary of a young junkie who finds an abandoned crate full of the blind man’s notes in an empty apartment. Filled with fantastic visual imagery and “found footage”, the story describing the Navidson Record is in turns challenging, intensely literary and nightmare inducing. 
 
The first time I noticed the book, Barnes & Noble had it tucked away, deep on a shelf beneath a shadowy stairwell. I read the back jacket of the oversized paperback. Though I found it interesting, we were late for a movie and had to rush to get decent seats. Throughout the next few days, the concept of the book looped on play back in my head. Something about the idea resonated with me and without having read a word, I noticed the hallways of our small apartment stretching long into the darkness of night. On my next visit, I planned to buy it but the bookshelf was no longer there. (Perhaps I should have recognized the foreboding irony at that point.) Still ignorant of major parts of the storyline, I asked the bloodshot eyed, skunk stinking employee for help and purchased the first of what would eventually end up being five copies.
 
Yeah. You read that right. I’ve since bought the book five times. One that I gave to a friend, two loaned out and never returned, one dog eared copy that I read once every year and finally, the full color, hard bound version that Danielewski signed for me at a reading in 2006. Am I a fanatic? Probably. What can I say? The book changed my life.
 

I’ve been trying to pinpoint a passage that frightened me the most during my
first reading. Right now, my copy of the book is burdened with post-it notes
marking pages like a porcupine is stacked with piercing quills. At every turn of  the page I find another horror that makes me want to leave the lights on after bed time with covers tucked over my sleepless head. 
  
Danielewski invents fresh ways of conjuring demons from the recesses of instinct. The impenetrable blackness swallowing deep into the mysterious labyrinth that appears where it should by all logical explanation, not be. The savage and guttural growling that stalks us as we explore faceless hallways and ominous arches disorienting us further into the nowhere.

The book  itself devolves into a physical manifestation of the labyrinth, with multiple storylines running at the same time on the pages in upside down or even backwards text. Certain passages can only be read through a “hole” on the other side of the page, cryptic photographs and cartoons depicting characters and locations from the story. It may be confusing and impudent, but HoL is never once boring.
 
An entire chapter consists of a thesis on the physics of sound before revealing in the last few words that there is a basic, terrifyingly primal reason behind the science, mythology and textbook quotations:
 
“The terrifying implication of their children’s shouts is now impossible to miss. No room in the house exceeds a length of twenty-five feet, let alone fifty feet, let alone fifty-six and a half feet, and yet Chad and Daisy’s voices are echoing, each call responding with an entirely separate answer.

In the living room, Navidson discovers the ehoes emanating from a dark doorless hallway which has appeared out of nowhere in the west wall. Without hesitating, Navidson plunges in after them. Unfortunately the living room Hi 8 cannot follow him nor for that matter can Karen. She freezes on the threshold, unable to push herself into the darkness toward the faint flicker of light within. Fortunately, she does not have to wait too long. Navidson soon reappears with Chad and Daisy in each arm, both of them still clutching a homemade candle, their faces lit like sprites on a winter’s eve.” 
 
I sat on a plane next to my new bride when I first read this passage. Whether it was from the small confines of the pressurized cabin or the instinctual protectiveness I felt from our recently discovered pregnancy, the concept of mysteriously growing spaces that swallow children swaddled me in lumpy gooseflesh. 
  
Regretfully, I told my wife about the happenings in the Navidson Record. 
 
We landed after 2:00AM in a small, unpopulated, pitch dark area. The only illumination was provided by the headlights of our rental car. I drove slowly on the winding road unable to see much in front of us other than the next curve as it veered right before our tires. A sign came into view before the next turn reading “Kihe 5 Miles”. Good.  We weren’t too far. After five minutes another sign appeared. “Kihe 6 Miles.” 
  
“The island is growing!” My wife prodded me with her elbow.
 
“No it’s not! Shut up!” My white knuckles squeezed the steering wheel nearly cracking it from the dashboard. Eventually we did arrive safely. We unpacked our bags and went to bed. 
 
What do you get when you cross old buildings and windy nights? Yeah. The walls groaned and creaked. What did my wife say? “This place is growing!” I proceeded to leap out of bed switching on every light in the place. Did I mention that I love my wife? 
  
I’ve been reading horror and thriller fiction for as long as I can remember. No book, movie or fireside camp out fright tale has come anywhere close to affecting me the way House of Leaves does. I find myself still lost in its labyrinth. I continue to walk down the long faceless hallways, descending stairs into the enigmatic, all-consuming darkness.