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Its a lucky thing for me that writing is the most portable of all professions, because for the past three years or so, Ive been living out of a suitcase. Okay, three suitcases, stashed in various cities: New York, then San Francisco, as well as Sydney and Melbourne. In the US, I stay with my partner; in Australia, Ive been doing what my son calls high-end couch surfing, house-and-dog sitting for assorted friends and relations. While my partner and I house-hunted for a home of our own in the Byron Bay area in northern New South Wales, all the rest of my worldly goods have waited patiently for me in storage.

So, where do I write? Wherever I happen to find myself! Adaptable, thats me with one proviso: I must, absolutely unequivocally must, have a view. Some writers can write facing a blank wall indeed, some even prefer to but not me. From my Manhattan window I could count sixteen watertanks atop the surrounding buildings; in Kirribilli, I watched the green and yellow ferries chug back and forth across Sydney Harbour; in Coorabell, I watched blue herons perform courting dances and crimson rosellas perch on the hibiscuses around the pool. Theres gotta be an upside to being homeless!

I have become adept at maintaining the mobile office, and today I thought Id let you have a peek at one of the places where Trust was written. As you can see, I did NOT tidy things up for the camera! Thats a genuine work in progress, right there: Trust's second draft up on the laptops screen, notes to the left and to the right as well, watched over by hand-knitted kangaroo and wombat from the Bangalow Countrywomens Association (these woolly marsupials destined for new babies in various parts of the world). The boxes (black and floral) are snap-togethers that hold papers, folders postcards, bank statements and whatever, and in the upturned halves of a little wicker basket bought in Bali are pens, paper-clips, scissors, highlighters, and the soft black cloth I (very) occasionally use to clean my laptop. Sharp-eyed readers might even noticed the spine of a book titled Krazy, which is mentioned in a conversation between Susanna and Gerry on page 115 of Trust.

And the view beyond? Thats the lush sub-tropical greenery of northern New South Wales, where my partner and I have finally bought a home. We move in there in early August, and I am so looking forward to opening up the door of that storage container and saying, Okay, you lot! Time to come home!