An editor's mind is always curious, always questioning and always ready to learn something new. I can easily demonstrate this with some examples of language that I've heard or seen in the mass media and elsewhere in popular culture:

"At that time, the Guadalquivir River was navigable as far as Córdoba." The implication is unmistakable that this is no longer the case, yet this statement stops short of providing that critical detail! All it takes is a couple of extra words—"navigable only as far as Córdoba" or "navigable all the way to Córdoba"—to supply the crucial element that makes the sentence meaningful.

"I live in Queens, and it's hell to get into Manhattan." My immediate reaction to this statement was to question whether it's categorically true. (It is not—much of Queens is very convenient to Manhattan!) This unfortunately deceptive assertion would mislead anyone not familiar with New York City, but could also be corrected with just a few extra words: "I live way out in Queens," "I live in a remote part of Queens," "I live far from the subway in Queens," etc.

"Summer is dwindling." Does summer dwindle, or do we have a dwindling number of days remaining in summer? Though the original usage is acceptable, it caught my ear as possibly suspect. Even this example serves to illuminate the way an editor's mind operates: We live and breathe language, and it's our nature to notice, question and verify. It's a state of linguistic hyperawareness that's always turned on!