If you’re a writer, it may be that no single thing came to mind when you read “The Best Thing That Can Happen to a Writer,” because the truth is, we need many different things to happen to us to become the writer we’d like to be.

We need to love reading, first and foremost. We need to know the language, to be able to express ourselves clearly. We need to master the language in a way that manipulates the readers’ experience without seeming manipulative; this means to know how to say what we want to say in the most effective way. This means, among many other things, choosing the right word, choosing the right verb (which is so much more important than one might realize), coming up with interesting metaphors, and varying sentence lengths.

That’s the nuts and bolts of the best things that can happen for you as a writer. But there is more.

There is finding your tribe. Finding a group of people like-minded, or like-hearted, or both, whether they are writers or not (it’s pretty great if they are; see, e.g.: The Gloria Sirens) so that you have a web of support. For me, really, The Gloria Sirens has been this in spades. We are not only supportive of each other in writing, but in life. The Sirens taught me all about the Sisterhood, which I knew should be out there, somewhere. When my daughter was four and in pre-school, a couple of girls started being mean to her. I told her, Whenever there’s another girl who is smart or can do something pretty well, or is fun, or is pretty— that is a girl you should make your friend. She is not your enemy. I didn’t experience this and know it inside and out until I knew The Sirens.

But another thing happened to me recently. My husband, the poet Billy Collins (who has encouraged me with great enthusiasm for years and years to write the novel I’ve been tinkering with), is the one who hears me daily say that this is the best thing that has happened to me as a writer. At the Kauai Writers Conference, I met some wonderful women who are best-selling novelists, agents, editors, and publishers. Because I was with Billy, who was also working at the conference, I got to spend free time with them. I’ve gotten to do that everywhere I’ve been with Billy, and that’s been a lot of places and a lot of people over the years. But this was different. These women accepted me and treated me the same as they treated each other, with grace and generosity. And then a few days in, when their closed workshops were over and I got to sit in on the sessions open to everyone, the top of my head blew off.

What I got from these women, especially (oh, yes, I’m going to name them!) novelists Christina Baker Kline, Jane Green, and Patti Callahan Henry seemed like The Secret to Writing a Novel, only what they shared isn’t some kind of magic. It was the practical techniques they employ when writing their own books. Wow. Such generosity! Such belief in themselves that they don’t mind sharing with others who may use that information to write their own captivating stories.

That was in November, and not only have I been writing my own story that I hope will be captivating, but…

I’m writing this from my rooftop guest room in Marrakesh on a hot, sunny Wednesday in February. I’m staying with my new best friend, Jane Green, a truly gifted storyteller and fabulous sister woman.

Last night, we dined in an open orange-treed courtyard draped high up at roof level with canvas sails, seemingly candlelit (as I remember it, but surely it wasn’t candles, was it?), with the sweet scent of orange blossoms hanging in the air, the two of us sitting on a pillowed settee, relaxed and chatting and dining, an occasional kitty coming up as though it somehow knew Jane would slip it some chicken left on the plate. (The cats weren’t wrong.)

I’ve traveled around the world, but this is my first time on the continent of Africa. Luckily, I awoke from a nap not long before we landed in Marrakech and I got to see patterns on the earth I had never seen in my life. Crops aren’t planted in rectangles and squares. They are irregularly shaped, fitted together like a mosaic. Beautiful. It looks like the patterns on tribal African fabrics, and I can’t explain that, because this is Northern Africa. I’m only telling you what I saw.

I can’t wait for what else is in store for me in Marrakech!

I am learning so much from these new friends, and one of those things is generosity. I would be selfish if I did not share with you that you can be here in Marrakech, in May, with Jane and her guest Jenna Blum, working on your novel. All you need to know is right here: Kitaba Marrakech. You’re welcome.