I know what you're thinking. It must be a cakewalk to sit way up here in the mountains and write books. No hustle and bustle, no distractions, beautiful scenery, fresh air, delightful creatures romping about for the sole purpose of providing us with endless amusement, etc.

Well...yes and no.

Admittedly, it's gorgeous here, and mountains in general are mysteriously inspirational, just like the ocean. All I have to do is walk out to the patio from my study, look at the panoramic view of the Sangre de Cristos, and I'm ready to start making things up. Add a glass of Scotch to that scenario, and we're really talking. Some of my best (and worst) work is done AFTER cocktail hour!

But the environment inside our house is no different than a home in the big city. And because of my obsession with technology, it's probably worse than most. For starters, my computer workstation has four screens (not counting the TV), thereby allowing me to have my manuscript, outline, stock-trading software, email, Internet and social media conveniently segregated on my desktop.

Wait a minute. If you did the math, you just figured out that I'm two screens short. Well, I'm afraid it's going to stay that way because I told my wife I was tossing around the idea of wiring up a couple more, and her response was not exactly enthusiastic. Apparently, she's already worried I'll go blind from the massive barrage of synthetic light in my face all day, so adding to that problem is not her idea of a rational decision. Okay, maybe she's right.

I treat my writing like a business, which includes a regimented 45-hour base work week, Monday through Friday, with extra hours and/or weekends added as needed - just like a regular job. So, as you might imagine, most of my work time is full of distractions like the stock market, emails, tweets, Facebook posts, phone calls and texts.

Hey, just because we're remote doesn't mean we live like the Beverly Hillbillies - before they moved to Californ-I-A, that is.

Then you have to add the time-consuming aspects of living on a remote mountaintop, not to mention being entirely off-the-grid. Thank God for satellite Internet and DIRECTV with NFL Sunday Ticket.

For example, running to the store takes an hour. Getting packages and picking up the mail can be a fiasco (see my last blog), and chipmunks need to be thoughtfully relocated. And when one of the many systems around here that duplicate city services goes down, who knows how long it will take yours truly to fix it, especially considering that it's anywhere from one to five hours just to run out and get the parts I need.

Take water, for example. The last time it went out, the problem was reported by my wife without her saying a word. She just showed up at my study with her hands on her hips and white facial wash covering her face. Like a crack detective, I promptly deduced what was wrong.

I swear, this actually happened a couple of weeks ago, and I had no choice but to drop everything and get on the job.

Seriously, when you live way up here, you can't exactly get a tradesman to pop over to the house for a quick repair, so I've had to learn how to do pretty much everything myself. I just draw the line at servicing the septic tank.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. I just can't help but dispel any illusions people might have about life up here.

That being said, I wouldn't trade it for the world.