Practice English Reading Exercises for B2 – Specialized & Vocational Courses 10

Exercises:   123456

Reading 1

You are going to read an article about four teenagers describing their participation in a specialized game design course and the mechanics of storytelling.

For questions 1-10, choose from the people (A-D). The people may be chosen more than once.

Which person

1   had to modify their plot because it initially failed to offer the player enough freedom?

2   discovered that a game’s scenery can communicate the plot without using words?

3   mentions that their previous background in a related field actually caused them difficulties?

4   was surprised to learn that a protagonist’s weaknesses make them more appealing?

5   initially believed that technical and visual elements were the core of game development?

6   had to reach an agreement with a peer regarding the game’s final scenes?

7   acknowledges having to simplify the way characters conversed with one another?

8   relied on observing actual users to alter their perspective on the narrative?

9   struggled to synchronise the speed of the story with the user’s actions?

10   felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of consequences resulting from user choices?

Crafting the Narrative: Lessons from Game Design

A Liam

Before starting this course, I took it for granted that game design was purely about mastering complex coding and crafting stunning 3D graphics. I honestly thought the story was just a secondary backdrop. I soon realised how wrong I was when we dived into narrative mechanics. My first draft was essentially a movie script; the player just walked in a straight line from point A to point B. The tutor pointed out it was far too rigid, so I was forced to rewrite the entire premise to incorporate branching paths that gave users genuine agency. Suddenly, mapping out the story felt like solving a massive puzzle. Every single decision the player made had to trigger a different result, and keeping track of all those diverging storylines left me feeling completely bogged down. There were moments I wanted to give up, but figuring out how to weave those countless outcomes together was incredibly rewarding.

B Chloe

Having written short stories as a hobby for years, I arrogantly assumed narrative design would be a walk in the park. However, I quickly discovered that penning a standard book is a far cry from interactive media, and my prior habits actually hindered my progress. In a novel, you control the tempo, but in a game, the user dictates how fast things happen. Trying to align the rhythm of my plot reveals with the actual mechanics of moving and fighting was a constant uphill battle. The biggest breakthrough for me was learning about ‘environmental storytelling’. Instead of relying on lengthy, boring text boxes to explain the history of a ruined castle, I learned to scatter visual clues—like broken statues or abandoned campsites—that allowed the atmosphere itself to do the talking. It’s an incredibly subtle yet powerful way to draw people into the universe.

C Noah

I’ve always been drawn to action-packed adventures, so I initially created an invincible hero who could do no wrong. I thought players wanted to feel incredibly powerful. Yet, during our character development module, the instructor explained that if a hero lacks vulnerabilities, the audience simply won’t care about them. Giving my main character deep-seated fears and personality defects actually made them far more relatable and human. The most challenging part of the project, though, was constructing the dialogue trees. I got completely carried away, writing endlessly complex options for every single chat the player could have. It became so convoluted that the software kept crashing! In the end, I had to significantly pare down the spoken exchanges just to make the programming manageable. Although I had to scrap pages of work, the revised interactions were much punchier and far more effective.

D Maya

Working on a joint project meant that every creative decision had to be negotiated. My partner and I clashed almost immediately over how the adventure should wrap up. I wanted a dramatic, tragic conclusion, whereas he insisted on a triumphant victory. After hours of heated debate, we eventually agreed to meet in the middle and design a bittersweet resolution. What truly opened my eyes, however, was the playtesting phase. You can spend weeks convinced your narrative is brilliant, but you only truly understand its impact when you watch a stranger try to navigate it. Seeing testers completely ignore plot points I thought were obvious, or become emotionally attached to minor side characters, completely shifted my approach to game design. Their reactions ultimately dictated my final edits, proving that the audience’s experience is the ultimate judge of a good story.

Reading 2

You are going to read an article about four young people reviewing a public speaking and debate masterclass and how it cured their stage fright.

For questions 1-10, choose from the people (A-D). The people may be chosen more than once.

Which person

1   states that speaking without any prior preparation was ultimately the most beneficial activity?

2   mentions learning a specific method to manage their physical symptoms of panic?

3   admits they only attended the sessions due to the pressure of an authority figure?

4   came to the realisation that crowds are generally sympathetic towards mistakes?

5   intends to utilise the confidence they gained for a highly specific career goal?

6   discovered that observing and reacting to the audience is a fundamental part of presenting?

7   had to conquer a deep reluctance to watch themselves on video?

8   felt reassured by the uplifting and positive environment created by the other participants?

9   points out that their level of nervousness depended entirely on how many people were watching?

10   started the course with a false assumption about what the curriculum would entail?

Finding Our Voices: Overcoming Stage Fright

A Alex

I always took it for granted that a public speaking course would merely teach you how to draft persuasive essays and memorise them. I couldn’t have been more wrong. My primary hurdle was the overwhelming physical panic I’d experience moments before stepping on stage; my heart would race and my palms would sweat profusely. Fortunately, the instructor introduced us to mindfulness and controlled breathing exercises, which worked wonders in regulating my body’s stress response. What also caught me off guard was the curriculum’s heavy emphasis on active listening. I used to believe that being a good speaker was entirely about dominating the room with your voice. However, I soon grasped that observing your audience and reacting to their cues is equally vital. It completely shifted my perspective. While I wouldn’t say I’m ready to deliver a keynote address to thousands of people just yet, the sheer dread has certainly subsided.

B Ben

If I’m completely honest, I didn’t enrol in this weekend masterclass voluntarily. My history teacher essentially twisted my arm, insisting it would help me overcome my crippling fear of the spotlight before our final academic assessments. Initially, I found the debate segment incredibly intimidating. I’ve always shied away from conflict, so the prospect of aggressively defending a viewpoint in front of an audience made me want to run for the hills. Nevertheless, learning how to methodically structure a logical argument took the raw emotion out of the experience. The most profound revelation for me, though, happened when I completely lost my train of thought during a mock debate. I froze, but nobody laughed. It suddenly dawned on me that audiences aren’t eagerly waiting for you to fail; they are actually remarkably understanding and tolerant of a few stumbles. I bounced back quickly, and that realisation alone was worth the initial agony.

C Clara

I’ve never had the slightest issue expressing myself in a small seminar or chatting with a handful of peers. However, place me in front of a packed auditorium, and my mind would instantly go completely blank. My anxiety was strictly proportional to the number of eyes staring back at me. To tackle this specific phobia, the masterclass relied heavily on video analysis. We were required to deliver short speeches while being filmed, and then rigorously critique ourselves. At first, the thought of scrutinising my own awkward gestures on a screen was my absolute worst nightmare. It felt like pure torture. Yet, it proved to be the most effective way to identify and eliminate my nervous habits, such as pacing aimlessly. I gradually came to terms with my on-screen presence. Given that I’m aiming to pursue a career as a barrister, presenting a case confidently to a crowded courtroom is essential, and I now feel equipped for it.

D David

My ultimate fear has always been forgetting my lines mid-sentence. I used to spend hours meticulously memorising every single word of my presentations, which ironically made my delivery sound robotic and unnatural. During the workshop, the tutor forced us to participate in impromptu speaking exercises. We were handed a random, obscure topic and had to talk about it immediately for two solid minutes without any notes. It was utterly terrifying to be put on the spot like that, but being thrown in at the deep end turned out to be the most valuable part of the entire week. It taught me to trust my instincts rather than relying on a rigid script. Furthermore, the incredibly supportive dynamic among the attendees made a massive difference. Whenever someone stumbled, the rest of the group offered enthusiastic applause and constructive feedback rather than harsh criticism. Knowing my peers had my back allowed me to take risks.

Exercises:   123456