Ican remember when I was eighteen being asked to come down and visit a well-known poet at the University of Glasgow. He had taken one of my poems for a magazine that was at the time internationally known. ‘You do realise you’ll never be able to make a living as a poet,’ he told me very firmly before I left.
I went home with those words ringing in my ears. I think for some time I really wanted to prove him wrong, to show that I certainly could live as nothing more than a poet. Some thirty years later I’ve at least managed to a large extent.