My favorite part of the paper has always been the advice columns. Ann Landers, Dear Amy, Dear Abby, Miss Manners, and more recently, Dear Carolyn and for crowd-sourced advice, Quora.

I enjoy the letters describing the dilemma, which unwittingly tell the reader so much about the author. The advice makes me think critically – what would I have done? Do I agree with the advice? Did it seem like the advice giver “got” it?

The situations and their responses give me a sense of what is socially appropriate, emotionally healthy, and legal.

The advice world, reflecting society at large, has a growing trend toward removing “toxic” and difficult people from your life. I put toxic in quotes not because toxic people don’t exist, but because our definition of them has grown to include not just your pathological, gaslighting uncle, but also your awkward friend who is working on her problems but still sometimes says careless or terrible things.

People write in to advice columnists about narcissists, takers, nitpickers, cheaters. Carolyn Hax is the best for the measured response that really seeks to understand all sides (reading her advice is like going to therapy).

Often, a person will be affirmed by the advice giver (Hax or Other) if they choose to end the problem relationship. Maybe this is the ultimate goal of good advice – to affirm WHATEVER the person chooses, because it IS their choice. If that’s true, I’m terrible at good advice, which is why I’m doing my best not to give any advice at all… but sometimes it slips out. That may make me toxic by some definitions.

This is where I want to introduce a book I recently read. Still Life, by Louise Penny, is the first in a series. If you like it, there are more where that came from. The book is a template for how to graciously deal with the difficult people in your life, packaged as a murder mystery (her answer isn’t to kill them).

There are several people in the book who through their speech, body language, or other people’s reactions to them, reveal themselves to be difficult. There are two characters in particular that come to mind for their brassy and thoughtless presentation. As I think about it, they aren’t the only ones in the book who are unpleasant to deal with – there were at least five characters who had a demeanor that made them challenging to deal with. (These angry/rude/obnoxious/distant characters didn’t grate on me, except maybe one, Ruth. Penny wrote about them with subtlety and compassion.)

The unpleasant characters in the book aren’t ostracized. In many cases, they are given the space when they need it and provided multiple chances to redeem themselves. Sometimes, their terrible behavior is ignored. One of them, despite being downright rude, had a warm and loving group of friends who just shrug off her unpleasantness as a part of her personality.

The keys Penny provides for dealing with these difficult types is to invite them to the table, ignore the idiosyncrasies, and set boundaries.

It struck me that we could, if we wanted, remove most of the people from our lives who make us uncomfortable – unsafe, unhappy, unheard – but that in doing so we would lose something.

That loss could be a discussion that changes our minds about an issue we thought we were sure about. It could be for some of us, the type of graceless criticism we receive from difficult people may be the only way such bad news about ourselves gets through to us. (Please don’t remind me of this right after I’ve received graceless criticism).

I am not advocating for us to all be squirming with discomfort every time we are with other people – but I was reminded by Still Life that many times, the most unpleasant people – the spiny, angry, loud, obnoxious ones – are also God’s children. Their misery radiates from within; it has little to do with us. There are healthy ways to deal with these tough people.

You might read this and think to yourself, well, LAURA, I have carefully tended my Friend Garden and the weeds I pulled were removed thoughtfully. I won’t be replanting them. And friend, that is probably true.

What you could do, if you’re willing, is consider being open-hearted next time you’re in a situation with a difficult person – is there a way to ignore the worst of them, speak up to defend the weak when necessary, and create a warmth that melts off the crusty layer these difficult folks carry around? Even if the melting is completely invisible and you leave thinking they are as horrid as ever?

Please note, I say this as a super sensitive person – what I’m asking us to consider sounds exhausting to me, and I know there are days I’m just not capable of doing it.

Of course, there ARE truly toxic people. For our own health, we distance ourselves. But how many more difficult people do we stay away from in the name of removing toxicity from our lives, but in doing so give up a mentoring opportunity, or the richness of a relationship with someone who is too crusty at first glance, but has a way of getting to the core of things with brutal honesty that you can’t find anywhere else?

I didn’t read Still Life for relationship advice; it was for book club. I’m relatively new to mystery novels, and it was one of my favorites so far – the author had me fooled up to the very end! Louise Penny also shows the way to live generously with others in a subtle, wonderful way, and I couldn’t help taking notes.