SR: Why do you choose to write in both 'serious' and science fiction (SF) genres?
IB: Science fiction was always my reading genre of choice, and after an Alistair MacLean-influenced thriller written when I was 16 (the baddies were international arms dealers) and a long comic novel much influenced by Joseph Heller's Catch 22 and John Brunner's Stand on Zanzibar when I was 18, the following three novels were all SF.
I wrote The Wasp Factory because I was fed up getting rejection slips and wanted to write something that - at the very least - I could send to more publishers, as only a limited number published SF at all.
A hardline faction in my head argued that this was abandoning my principles and selling out to the possibilities of commercial success, while the emollient suits of my psyche talked smoothly of using the mainstream stuff to establish a beachhead on the shore of publishing (and the public's perception) before storming in with the SF later.
SR: What is you favourite genre and why?
IB: SF; the possibilities are endless.
SR: What is your favourite novel of yours and why?
IB: The Bridge; it's the clever one of the family.
SR: It is clear from novels like Complicity you are to the left - would you describe yourself as a political writer or a writer who happens to write about politics?
IB: I've always felt that my stuff isn't sufficiently political. I tried - not very successfully - to incorporate politics in Canal Dreams, and did a lot better, I think, in Complicity.
If that book reeks of hatred for the Tories and the odious, corruption saturated, greed obsessed culture they brought to fruition in Britain then it has not all been in vain... I'd still like to be more political, but it's a struggle.
Frankly, I think I'm a middle class writer. Arguably, my family - extended as well as immediate - has gone from being effectively working class to being mostly middle class during my lifetime and I think this is at least partially reflected in my work.
So I'm afraid I think it's option (b) of your question.
SR: Do you think the election of the new Labour government will affect in any way what you write about?
IB: There may be some impact, though it'll probably take a while to show up. Like a lot of people I felt a huge amount of personal relief that the Tories had finally been thrown out (and so emphatically) even if I had and have no illusions about the policies Tony Blair and his chums intend to follow.
I'm starting an SF novel in October to be published in June next year, so it'll be a year before I'm even thinking of writing the next mainstream novel, which - if it's set in contemporary society - could well reflect the changes since 1 May. We'll see.
SR: Most writers/artists tend to be suspicious of organised politics - are you? And if so, why?
IB: I suspect everybody's a little suspicious of all organised things, whether it's politics, religion or commerce. It may be a human reaction to the compromises one has to make as an individual to be part of something bigger (though, of course, there is a balancing desire for humans to group together).
With politics in particular I think there's a perception that - through deals made within a party (or a government), partly to keep up the facade of a united front - politicians basically lie because that's the party line.
In the end, though, politics is of our species and its cultures, as is our art, and without organised politics - atomised as individuals with no other say in our society save that of what we're allowed to buy and sell, say - we surrender our fates entirely to those with the biggest stash of loot.
Just having re-read the question, it occurs to me that in a very politician-like way I haven't actually answered it completely.
So yes, personally I am somewhat suspicious, but then - while I admire and respect teams - I'm not really a team player; too many years spent effectively acting god, writing novels, perhaps.
SR: Do you think the increasing popularity of your work (the televising of The Crow Road, for instance) reflects the fact that the audience for challenging literature is growing?
IB: I'd hope so, though how challenging my books are might be open to question.
SR: Most of your novels have been described as humorously macabre. Does your new novel, Song of Stone, follow in the same vein or do you see your novels taking a different direction in the future?
IB: No. Song of Stone is just macabre. In the future... I don't know. I haven't decided quite what the new SF novel is going to be about yet, let alone the next mainstream book, though I have got sort of vague plans for it being Bridge-like in complexity... But it's all open to change.
All I ever try to do is write the sort of books I'd like to read. If I can keep doing that - and, realistically, assuming my tastes don't diverge too much from what a sufficiently large number of other people want to read - I'll be happy.
Song of Stone is now available £16.99, published by Abacus.