In which I find I have nothing to say

The other day I was browsing in a bookstore, and saw a copy of Dawn Powell's My Home is Far Away. "I've read that," I thought, but couldn't remember anything about it, other than that I had liked it. Too often I lose what I've read or seen or listened to through just never making a statement about it to anyone. Maybe jotting down a few notes about things that have impressed me will help keep these things from falling into a black hole in my brain.