Despite being a very successful novelist you still spend a lot of time on the road at events such as the Bradford Festival's Triple Crime Bill. Do you think it's important that authors remain in touch with their readers?
I think it's helpful for several reasons. Firstly, readers often see things in the work that writers are not always consciously aware of and it's interesting to hear another take on one's work. Secondly, I think readers appreciate the chance to share their experience both with the writer and with other readers. And thirdly, writers spend most of their working lives shut away in isolation with no real sense of whether what we're doing has any impact at all. It's a wonderful crutch for the ego to hear readers talking about their pleasure in the books - it's what gets me through the long dark days when the words don't want to come out and play.

Why did you start writing crime fiction?
I'd always wanted to write and I tried various forms - the literary novel, the theatrical play, the radio drama - with limited success. Eventually I was fired by my then agent for not making him enough money. I'd always read and enjoyed detective novels and thought I might have a last roll of the dice with one of those. Then a friend sent me a copy of Sara Paretsky's first novel, Indemnity Only and I was blown away. Here was a crime novel that had a great plot, a strong female protagonist, an urban setting I could relate to, and politics, both personal and social. I suddenly understood how I could use the crime novel to tell stories that were more than just intellectual crossword puzzles. So I started work on Report for Murder and the rest is history.

The Scottish Parliament: The roots of recent flowering of crime fiction in Scotland "coincide with the start of the devolution debate."

You come from Fife as does Ian Rankin. Recently there has been much talk of Tartan Noir? Is there something about growing up in Fife, or in Scotland, that you think might lead to becoming a good crime novelist?
There is, I think, a unifying flavour to Scottish crime fiction that sets it apart from the English variety. It's a psychological darkness, an irreverence and black, black humour. The reasons for that lie in the social, political and cultural differences between the Scots and the English, which I suspect we are much more conscious of than the English. Our tradition runs from James Hogg's Confessions of a Justified Sinner, through RL Stevenson's Jekyll and Hyde and Conan Doyle to William McIlvanney's Laidlaw. I think the recent flowering of crime fiction in Scotland is partly political - its roots coincide with the start of the devolution debate, when we had to take a long hard look at who we are and what our place in the world might be. At the same time, crime fiction elsewhere was entering a second golden age and it was clear that the crime novel was the place to go for writers interested in strong storytelling coupled with social comment. The two strands found a natural marriage and the results have been startling.

You started your working life as a journalist and Lindsay Gordon, the heroine of you first series of novels, was also a journalist. How far has this experience influenced your writing?
Less that one might expect. Obviously it gave me a huge database of characters and locations, and it taught me to write tight. But that's about it, apart from the invaluable lesson that writing is a job, not some muse-inspired self-indulgence. You can't postpone writing a news story because you're not in the mood, so you learn very quickly that no matter what else is going on in your life, you should be able to get something down on paper. And once you have something down, you can make it better.

You moved to Manchester and subsequently created private eye Kate Brannigan. Do you have any plans to write any more Brannigan books or do you think Kate (as well as the other regular characters) was very much of that time in Manchester?
I've recently been thinking again about writing another Brannigan novel. She seems to be knocking at the door of my mind. I think it would be very different from the previous six in tone, though of course Brannigan's unique voice is what would link it to the earlier books. But she'd be older and wiser, and reflect that Manchester is a different city to the one she inhabited in the 90s.

Your more recent novels would seem to be darker and more psychological in their approach? How far is it true to say this is because you want to investigate different themes that you felt would not be appropriate to either the Lindsay Gordon or Kate Brannigan series?
I've always written the books that were loud in my head and my heart. I generally know pretty early on in an idea whether it fits one of the series or whether it's a standalone, and so I shape the idea and the characters accordingly. I've always been driven by what I was excited about writing, rather than by any perceived commercial imperative to write any given book. (Why else would I have returned to Lindsay Gordon in 2003? Certainly not for the money...)

Are you happy with the way your Tony Hill novels have been adapted for TV and with the casting of Robson Green?
Yes. I think they've done a great job of remaining faithful to the essence of the books while still making wonderfully watchable TV.

Robson Green plays Dr Tony Hill in the TV series Wire in the Blood.

I've heard a few people say they have found these books difficult to read because of the way violence is depicted, particularly towards women. How far do you think this criticism is justified?
Violence is not glamorous and murder is not an entertainment. I write different styles of books and the way I deal with the terrible things people do to each other varies quite drastically from series to series and book to book. When writing about a character like Tony Hill, who is profoundly concerned with the roots of violence and with confronting honestly what human beings do to each other, it is necessary to confront directly what these acts are, what they mean and why they happen. To gloss over them or sanitise them feels to me like moral cowardice. I don't think I ever use violence gratuitously - it always has a function within the book. I'm sorry some people find these books hard to read, but they're not meant to be comfort blankets. If you read them without flinching, you probably need professional help...

On the issue of violence against women - two points. Firstly, it is the case that women are disproportionately the victims of violence, particularly sexual violence. It seems perverse to pretend otherwise. And secondly, more than most other writers, I have also explored the issues of violence against men.

Your most recent book Stranded is a short-story collection. Where do you see yourself going next as a writer?
To hell in a handbasket! Seriously, I'll go where the ideas take me.

How far do you think crime fiction is a genre which can be used to ask most of the big questions that face us as people?
In recent years, the crime genre has pushed the envelope till the corners are practically out of sight from the centre. The best of contemporary crime writing demonstrates that we are lucky enough to have a tranche of writers who deal with all of the big issues, both personal and political. I don't honestly think there's anywhere we can't go.

Chris Verguson