Urgently needed: sporty type (gender no object but must be NS with GSOH and sorted) with own wheels to join workaholic under deadline pressure, though would love to nurture creative side. No easy riders or drama queens. Must enjoy group activity. Firm hand needed.

Now, if you were a no-messing, non-smoking sports teacher with a great sense of humour and no psychological hang-ups, would you go for this job at a tough school with a special measures action plan, a teamwork approach, and a head who would really like to see his tough kids do Peter Pan at Easter - and is desperately covering up the fact that his school is in a no-go area for local busdrivers?

Well, you might, if only because the bloke is obviously resourceful and has so far kept his own SOH intact somewhere behind the barbed wire, the armed parents and psychopathic Ofsted inspectors. He deserves a break. If he’s wacky enough to advertise like this, and you’re confident enough to go for it, then it could be a match made in heaven.

Sadly, you won’t see many ads like this. Most are conventional, although you get the odd one along the lines of those honesty house ads of the 1980s. You know: “Ceilings conveniently located at floor level; indoor pool supplied by bedroom chimney flue; wiring of historical interest.” Upfront school ads tend to be more along the lines of “Can you help us create a good learning environment for deserving children?” Then the ad will mention special measures and scatter words such as “challenging” and “vision”.

In times of shortage, it’s difficult to know how you should word your ad, even if you can offer a good deal. Some schools seem to sell themselves, especially if they are “thriving and oversubscribed” and in “an area of outstanding natural beauty”, and with “supportive parents and governors”. Others have to make their problems with location, league tables, and low pupil expectation seem professionally attractive. Remember: if you adopt brochure-speak or lie, you will get the wrong person.

The trouble with “beautiful job” ads is that you might attract those who just want to have an easy time in a pretty but stagnating pool. And if you don’t mention the rough stuff down on Boarded Up Heights estate, you’ll have timewasters coming for interview and possibly the wrong person in the end.

There are freebies you can throw in: relocation expenses, laptops and whiteboards. That might stimulate early interest, but few will be lured by giveaways alone. You’re more likely to sell your job if you can offer some decent non-contact time, staff development and a good management structure.

In the end, honesty is the best policy. So much information on schools is now available through the Web, that you’re only likely to pull the wool over the eyes of the non-computer literate.

But you should also be upbeat about your solutions to any problems. You want someone who will get stuck in and help with visions and action plans, so give an idea of how the school is being re-directed. No one wants to work for a depressive, so sound positive.

And if yours is a lucky and leafy place, say so. But don’t say just that. If you’re nestling under the Chilterns, say you want a hillwalker with her feet on the school ground. If you have easy access to the West End, say you need someone keen to help with the drama club, not just anxious to bunk off in time for curtain-up. And if your results are sky-high, you want someone to help maintain them, have a whole-child approach and get to grips with curriculum development.

If all else fails, those lonely hearts pages are very well read.