I’ve been reading Khaled Hosseini’s “The Kite Runner”. There’s a line in there that stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Then, a thing made of skin and bones pretending to be Rahim Khan opened the door.”
Wow. I’d give up ice cream for a month to write a sentence like that. Come to think of it, I haven’t had any for two weeks.
Even the placement of this sentence on the printed page (Riverhead Books, 2003, hardback, p. 172) seems calculated to add punch to its effect. It’s the first sentence on top of the page, but the last sentence of a paragraph from the previous (overleaf page.) So the sentence pops out from its surrounding white space.