Gordon Gibson lives in Troon, on the south-west coast of Scotland. He started working in steelworks in Motherwell, and later trained as a primary school teacher. This led on to a twenty-year-long career as a lecturer in higher education.
In 2010, Gordon started writing full-time. Since then his prose and poetry has appeared in a number of print and online publications.
Q: If you could travel in the past, which one of the great writers would you like to meet and why?
A: James Joyce. I admire the tenacity that he demonstrated in pursuing the life of an artist despite setbacks and opposition. I also love the precision and breadth of his language (although Finnegans Wake remains just a bit too challenging for me).
Q: What is the first book you remember reading, or being read to as a child?
A: The first stories I remember reading were in The Adventure and The Wizard comics. Later I moved to Richmal Crompton’s William stories.
Q: Do you have a favourite quote? (from a book, movie, song, speech…)
A: Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come.
(Shakespeare, Sonnet 116)
Q: Is there a book that you keep going back to and how many times have you read it?
A: Dubliners by James Joyce. I have returned to these stories innumerable times over the past 40 years.
My mother loved gossip, particularly when it concerned human folly or, even better, sin. I always put this down to her childhood, during which she had been brought up by joyless Victorian grandparents in accordance with the strict teachings of the Plymouth Brethren. Although she had long escaped her family’s domination, those years of harsh …
When Susan recalled how she had been in the summer of ’68, when she had first gone flat-hunting in Edinburgh, what came into her mind, with a rush of embarrassment even after all these years, was her youth, her innocence and her unshakeable belief in the values that her parents had imposed upon her throughout …
Each morning one of the staff wheeled Mr Aiken from the room where he slept, along the corridor and into the big lounge with all the chairs. Today it was a young man. Mr Aiken did not know him. They did not talk. Usually he was parked against the wall, facing towards the television. Some …