The two things that I miss most when living out of Australia are the bush and the Pacific coast, especially fishing in the surf at night! My father had a workshop and I learned to be a carpenter, a skill that has resulted in the manufacture of some very substantial coffee tables and a fair amount of time working on houses.

They’re very quiet coffee shops, and there are some positions in which it’s easier to write. Somewhere there’s an outlet, and you can keep your back to people. I’ll write for about two hours and then get up and walk with my iPad to the next coffee shop, about 10 minutes away. When you walk, you get a little fresh air, and I’ve heard moving around is good for you while writing. When you write in an office or at home, you end up sleeping. You can’t sleep at a cafe since you can’t lie down. I think that’s good, and it’s become a habit. I wrote Parasite half in Seoul and half in Vancouver.

I call it “stolen time”—there’s nothing more valuable than stolen time. It happens to me sometimes when I’ve set up a meeting at my studio at a certain time and it gets cancelled on short notice. When it happens, I’m like a giddy child. I think, “Wow, I’ve stolen half an hour. It’s so exciting—I can do whatever I want!”

Well actually I was at home. I was doing some housework. So I was very surprised.

Brummies have adopted the sense that we live in a shit-hole, but in terms of green space, culture and community, it’s unrivalled. It’s a calm and happy place; my heart rate drops when I get off the train from London. I say, kind of with tongue in cheek, but not that far in my cheek, that it’s the best city in the world.

Every year I get more of an understanding of what I need to be happy. If I haven’t slept enough, or if I haven’t exercised, I’m more likely to be in a bad mood. My silly brain will think it’s because I haven’t written a good joke that day, but actually I’m just tired or I need a poo.