As the editorial director of a book publishing company, I occasionally need to hire copy editors and proofreaders. In fact, I am looking for such a person now. The good news is that the ads I recently placed brought in a pile of résumés. The bad news is... the résumés.

There's the one with six typos by a man who claims "finding errors" is his forte; the one from a woman whose Job Objective line reads, "To secure proofreading position a major corporation"; and the one from an apparently multitalented job candidate that starts out: "To: Editorial Director. Re: Dental Assistant position." This candidate goes on to tout his impeccable English skills and attention to detail. As a proofreader, he's probably an excellent dental assistant.

Then there's the guy who failed miserably on the in-house spelling test. This would-be proofreader explained with a conspiratorial whisper, "Well, spelling isn't my strong suit."

Unfortunately, this current search is typical of what I've experienced over the past 10 years of hiring entry-level editorial staff. The majority—yes, I'd say 90%—of the applications I receive have spelling and syntax errors. What's going on here? Why are we attracting so many applicants who don't have the skills, never mind the passion, to do the job?

I remember one woman who did well on our preliminary at-home editing test and managed to arrive on time for the interview, but when asked why she wanted the job, replied, "Because it's there." She may speak for a lot of young people who are applying for publishing jobs as an afterthought, as if these positions are something that they surely would be able to ace. After all, they can read and write.

It wasn't always this way. I remember when I applied for (and secured) one of my first jobs in the industry, more than 20 years ago. The company had a flier in the reception area saying something to the effect, "Publishing is a prestige profession that doesn't pay well, so if you're in this for financial gain rather than the love of books, perhaps this arena isn't for you."

I remember being so proud that yes, indeed, I was in it for the right reasons, and knew I had the skills to back up my interest. As all of us who are in the field know, being a proficient editor takes training and talent. And publishing houses aren't the place to earn rent money while looking for the job you really want. Maybe it's time we reclaimed our pride in the book business as a "prestige profession" worthy (despite the paltry salaries) of the brightest young people.

The applicant who stands out most in my mind, though, is the one whose skills of observation were particularly lacking. After being greeted by our v-p's resident dog, she walked into my office—which is littered with cat calendars, cat mugs, photos of me with my cats and a very real-looking black-and-white stuffed cat that was sitting on the floor right in front of her—and exclaimed, "Oh, I'm glad that you have a dog in the office and not a cat. I hate cats."

There's nothing worse than somebody who just doesn't notice the important things. I thought I was close to hiring someone recently, until she sent in a "Thank you for the interview" note that declared: "I want to emphasize my enthusiasm for the proofreading position at ___________." And then she inserted the name of our company. But she spelled it wrong.