She acquires phony documents and plans to fake her own death while in Greece alone. Yet, while her husband and son think she is away, she returns and, in disguise, becomes a fly on the wall in her own life. Novelists are, indeed, voyeurs. And it may be the case, too, that novelists are spying on themselves more than on anyone else. By telling stories that seem not to be literally true, that seem to be about other people, we may be creating a relatively safe way to examine those parts of ourselves that are difficult to look at.
Writing is a mysterious process and all pronouncements about it are suspect.
That sounded claustrophobic to me. So, instead of a character who imagines what it might be like to be someone else, I give her the means to assume another identity. Instead of a character who wonders what it would be like to be homeless, I make her homeless for awhile. At one point, she even begs for money on a street corner. But I wanted her situation enacted, not just imagined, so the risk seemed worth it to me.