chooning (n.), British:

  1. adjustments made to the tone of your writing, until it conveys what you want it to;

  2. a piano tuning by my dad.

  • It’s never too late to learn the family trade, as my father likes to remind me.

    Stop taking the mick, will you? Piano tuning is a steady business. No one wants the electric ones. They might think they do—no need to hire a tuner—but within a year they’re sick of it. They wanted a perfectly tuned piano, but it’s not a piano—it’s an overpriced MIDI keyboard, for heaven’s sake!

    I was tuned out for most of Dad’s physics lessons, but always admired his distinction between “right” and “perfect.” These days, it takes all our willpower to be anything but the most perfectly acceptable version of ourselves we can possibly imagine, even if it doesn’t feel right.

    The perfect word for improving prose is “editing.” But it isn’t right for me. I don’t like the idea of editing people anymore. No one should have to sound the same as everyone else.