Murder stories can unmask real world

And yet murder is at the centre of our entertainment industry. Hercule Poirot, Adam Dalgleish, Inspector Morse and Inspector Rebus all exercise their "little grey cells" in the service of justice, and what is it we like them to investigate? Murder, of course.

So why are we so obsessed with the crime? Murder is the ultimate taboo, something we fear on our own behalf and that of our loved ones. Perhaps we like to confront and explore our fears within the safety of the cinema complex or our own home.

But even if murder fascinates, is it an appropriate subject for fiction? Is it perhaps appealing to parts of us that shouldn't be appealed to? Might it excite readers into committing the very crime we're exposing? Why not write nice stories about people with simple problems? Perhaps we could concentrate on the loss of a handbag rather than the loss of a life?

We read novels for different reasons: entertainment, information, to make sense of our lives and to confront things that disturb us. Fiction has always dealt with difficult subjects and the writer's role is partly to confront what is happening within society.

There are many novels that entertain without challenging, novelists who present a genteel picture of a Scotland that I for one don't recognise - good luck to them. But the novel does not merely exist to support the Scottish tourist board. If novelists were confined to writing "nice books" we would end up with the fictional equivalent of Hollywood blockbusters - bland, unchallenging, with no-one we recognise ever appearing - a book full of product placements, a means to social control.

Crime, murder in particular, is a conduit through which we can explore what is going on within our world. When the modern fictional investigator delves into wrongdoing and corruption, he's also exploring the flip side of society, and the reader travels with him or her into places they would be ill advised to tread in real life.

We can pretend we live in a Scotland where there is no crime or violence, but I believe novelists should engage with society.

Writers don't cause social injustice, political corruption, racism, drug abuse, prostitution murder; it is a part of the real world, a part too often excised from the public consciousness.

This is not to say that crime writing is perfect. There are some bad and exploitative books on the market. I defy anyone to tell me what I should and shouldn't explore, but I do believe crime writers should be concerned with the ethics of what they write. I think hard about what I show and I've decided that I prefer graphic to slick violence - violent scenes should be bloody, disgusting and disturbing - they are in real life.

Last week, I interviewed Bret Easton Ellis. In the 1980s, his graphically violent novel American Psycho was tipped to destroy civilisation. But part of what I admired about the book was the horror of his violence. No reader could leave the text thinking murder a glamorous crime. Mr Ellis is still writing brilliant novels, while these days some of the very politicians who condemned him are subject to criminal investigation.

I believe it's not the people who look at the "dark side" of our society that we have to look out for; it's the ones who are condemning our right to explore society's problems we should be mindful of. What is there at stake in trying to censor others? Does the social balance perhaps swing in their favour? Does it suit them to think we all live in genteel respectability in Morningside or the New Town? Would they rather pretend nothing sinister ever occurs in a world that serves them well?

I'll stick to writing books that confront crime, books where the violence is not smooth and bloodless, though come to think of it, it's not generally the violence that my critics object to - usually it's the graphic sex they don't like!

Louise Welsh has written two novels, The Cutting Room, which won the John Creasy Dagger, and Tamburlaine Must Die. She and Edinburgh author Lin Anderson will be reading from their latest novels and debating the ethics of crime fiction at North Edinburgh Arts Centre, on Thursday, at 7.30pm. Tickets are 5 (concessions 3.50) - call 0131-315 2151