Time for another line-by-line:
When Christopher Ransom opened his eyes he was on his back, looking up into a huddle of Japanese faces shimmering in a pool of artificial light. Who were these people? Then he placed them. These were his fellow karate-ka, members of his dojo. And there stood the sensei, broad nose skewed to the left side of his face, broken in the finals at the Junior All-Japan Karate Tournament fifteen years ago. Ransom was pleased that he could recall this detail. Collect enough of the details and the larger picture might take care of itself.
The sensei asked if he was okay. Ransom lifted his head. Turquoise and magenta disks played at the edge of his vision. He was hoisted to his feet; suddenly the landscape looked as if it was flipped on its side, the surface of the parking lot standing vertical like a wall and the façade of the gym lying flat where the ground should be. Then the scene righted itself, as if on hinges.
That's the first page from
Ransom by Jay McInerney. (Please note how short a page is. Three pages a day for three months is a novel. It's easy ... all you have to do is sit there and do it.)
Okay, let's look at this page sentence-by-sentence.
When Christopher Ransom opened his eyes he was on his back, looking up into a huddle of Japanese faces shimmering in a pool of artificial light.
A person in a place with a problem. This is a classic opening form; you'd be hard-pressed to do better. We learn the protagonist's name by the third word.
Christopher means "Christ bearer." "Ransom" suggests salvation. (C.S. Lewis used the character name to suggest that meaning in his Space Trilogy; so did I in my Mageworlds books.) We've got baptismal imagery here. I don't know if the author will run with that, but the possibility is open to him. Nothing happens by chance in a novel; every word is an individual artistic choice.
We're in the absolutely classic third-person past-tense. Again, an excellent choice. Only use some other person and some other tense for the very best of reasons.
That's the character's internal thoughts. Not marked with italic, but obvious from the context. A simple sentence.
Still simpler. The effect is of someone returning to consciousness.
These were his fellow karate-ka, members of his dojo.
Further defining place. Note use of foreign words (but still words that the average educated US readers should understand). More complex grammar. More about the protagonist too: We learn that Ransom himself is a karate-ka, and belongs to a dojo.
And there stood the sensei, broad nose skewed to the left side of his face, broken in the finals at the Junior All-Japan Karate Tournament fifteen years ago.
The sentences grow longer and more convoluted as the protagonist returns to consciousness. We have a second character introduced, with a telling detail, and a bit of history. More implications; this is full-contact karate.
Ransom was pleased that he could recall this detail.
Drop back to simpler grammar. We're focusing back on the protagonist.
Collect enough of the details and the larger picture might take care of itself.
End of the first paragraph with a philosophical statement, and perhaps foreshadowing of the overall shape of the novel.
The sensei asked if he was okay.
Paragraph two starts with a simple sentence, indirect discourse. Redirection to the second character.
Very simple sentence. First physical motion in the book, and it's very small.
Turquoise and magenta disks played at the edge of his vision.
Sensual detail. But complex words: turquoise and magenta, not green and red. We're learning, not by being told directly, that Ransom was clocked upside the head, hard enough to knock him out.
He was hoisted to his feet; suddenly the landscape looked as if it was flipped on its side, the surface of the parking lot standing vertical like a wall and the façade of the gym lying flat where the ground should be.
Very long, compound-complex sentence, weird imagery. More definition on where he is -- in a parking lot. Ransom is passive here, giving us the impression of weakness. Whatever he told the sensei, about being okay, he's clearly not okay. This will slow the reader down.
Then the scene righted itself, as if on hinges.
Contrast: simpler sentence. Ransom is the observer. And a lovely image.
We've seen bunches of telling details. The prose is smooth. The imagery is outstanding.
Again, the author is concentrating on building scene and defining character. Plot hasn't yet arrived, for all that there's been some physical movement. The movement here has mostly been mental, from unconsciousness to observation.
So we've learned quite a bit more about the character and his situation/problem, even though some major mysteries are present. We don't know
why he was on his back in the parking lot. It's night time (he's out of doors yet there's artificial light). A parking lot is an odd place to be having a formal karate bout. Was he mugged, despite his karate training?
The protagonist has a Western name, although the scene seems to be in Japan, or at least in a Japanese community. Lots to wonder about here.
So: the master question. Do you want to turn the page?