'Unusual narrators in fiction demonstrate how a willing suspension of disbelief touches every aspect of the reading experience. After a few pages of Ian McEwan’s Nutshell, we are reconciled to the fact that the narrator is a foetus. In Tibor Fischer’s The Collector Collector, we grow comfortable under the guidance of a narrator that is a 6000-year-old Mesopotamian bowl. Likewise, in Alice Sebold’s The Lovely Bones, we accept a narrator who is dead. Fiction is replete with narrators that are atoms, horses, bees and death itself. Colin Varney’s Earworm adds a song to this list of unusual narrators.' (Introduction)