Practice English Reading Exercises for B2 – Literature, Writing & Publishing 2

Exercises:   123456

Reading 1

You are going to read an article about four writers sharing their severe struggles with “writer’s block” and the bizarre methods they use to find inspiration again.

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

Which person/section

1   relies on secretly listening to others to spark their imagination?

2   finds that doing tiring physical chores helps reset their brain?

3   draws inspiration from the strange visions they experience while asleep?

4   adopts a physical disguise to reconnect with their work?

5   takes aimless journeys to escape their creative rut?

6   explains their block is caused by being overwhelmed by complex details?

7   admits they used to waste hours simply looking at their computer?

8   experienced a moment of inspiration during a routine household activity?

9   mentions losing the emotional bond with the people in their story?

10   deliberately rests in unusual spots to stimulate creativity?

Battling the Blank Page: Bizarre Cures for Writer’s Block

A Elias

Whenever I used to hit a brick wall with my writing, my immediate reaction was to sit rigidly at my desk, gazing blankly at the glowing monitor for hours on end, hoping a miracle would happen. It rarely did. Nowadays, my approach to overcoming a creative drought is completely different. I don’t try to force the words; instead, I head out and hop on a random city bus with no final destination in mind. I simply ride from one end of the line to the other. There’s something incredibly freeing about being in transit without a schedule. More importantly, I quietly tune in to the chatter of the passengers around me. Picking up snippets of strangers’ conversations serves as the ultimate catalyst for my plots. I’ll hear an unusual phrase or observe a quirky habit, and suddenly, my mind is buzzing with new character arcs. I once tried cleaning the house to clear my head, but I just ended up with a tidy room and an empty page.

B Nina

When severe writer’s block strikes, it feels like my brain is wrapped in a thick, impenetrable fog. I write intense psychological thrillers, and sometimes the intricate motives of my characters just stop making sense. Instead of taking a long walk or changing my scenery to feel different, I turn to heavy domestic labour. I literally start dragging sofas across the living room or aggressively scrubbing the oven until my arms ache. It probably sounds ridiculous, but pushing myself to the point of physical exhaustion completely shuts down my conscious anxiety. Just last week, I was vigorously polishing the bathroom mirror when the solution to a massive plot hole suddenly dawned on me out of nowhere. By forcing my body to take over the hard work, my subconscious is left free to untangle the messy web of my storyline. It’s a highly unorthodox coping mechanism, but it undoubtedly gets my creative juices flowing again.

C Julian

Writing epic fantasy means dealing with an exhausting amount of world-building. Occasionally, the sheer volume of intricate rules, magic systems, and political histories I have to keep track of becomes completely overwhelming, and my creativity simply shuts down under the pressure. When this happens, a regular nap in my comfortable bed won’t cut it. To break the deadlock, I abandon comfort entirely and lie down in the strangest places I can find—under the dining table, in the narrow hallway, or even on the hard kitchen floor. This deliberate physical discomfort disrupts my usual routine and consistently triggers the most bizarre, vivid dreams. As soon as I wake up, I immediately jot down the surreal images and disjointed scenarios I witnessed while unconscious. These odd, subconscious visions almost always provide the missing piece of the puzzle I desperately need to move my narrative forward.

D Clara

As a romance novelist, my stories rely entirely on authentic feelings. Consequently, the most terrifying form of writer’s block for me is when I suddenly feel completely detached from my protagonists’ emotions. It’s as if they become strangers to me, and no amount of staring at the screen helps to fix the problem. To bridge this gap, I resort to a rather theatrical tactic. I dive into my wardrobe, piece together an outfit that belongs to the character I’m struggling with, and literally dress up as them. I might put on an old trench coat or a colourful wig, and then I stroll through the town centre completely in character. I might pop into a café or ride the train acting out their persona. Stepping physically into their shoes forces me to view the world through their eyes. People probably think I’m eccentric, but embodying the character re-establishes that vital connection and always brings my manuscript back to life.

Reading 2

You are going to read an article about four individuals describing their fierce preference for traditional physical books over e-readers.

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

Which person/section

1   points out that physical books help them remember the content more effectively?

2   cherishes the physical heaviness and the sound of a book being read?

3   views their collection of books as a reflection of their personal history?

4   mentions the specific aroma of recently published reading material?

5   appreciates the atmospheric scent of shops selling pre-owned volumes?

6   believes that reading on a screen too closely resembles their daily employment?

7   concedes that digital devices possess a certain advantage when going on trips?

8   values the items they have received from previous generations?

9   appreciates the visual aesthetics of a well-produced book cover?

10   highlights how the physical act of moving from one page to the next is deeply satisfying?

The Scent of Paper: Why We Refuse to Go Digital

A Liam

I’ve always been fiercely loyal to traditional books, primarily because of the unparalleled sensory experience they offer. There is nothing quite like the unmistakable scent of a second-hand bookshop; that earthy, slightly musty aroma instantly puts me at ease. For me, the sheer joy of reading is intrinsically linked to the physical act of turning a slightly rough, textured page. You simply can’t replicate that satisfying friction by swiping a smooth glass screen. I will openly admit that when it comes to packing for a long holiday, e-readers are undeniably more practical. Stuffing heavy hardbacks into a suitcase can be a real nuisance. Nevertheless, I adamantly refuse to make the switch. Staring at a digital display deprives me of the tactile engagement that makes reading so magical. When I hold a paperback, I feel completely immersed in the narrative, entirely disconnected from the endless distractions of the digital world.

B Chloe

While many of my peers have eagerly embraced digital reading, I remain stubbornly attached to the printed word. For one thing, I genuinely find it much easier to retain facts when I consume a physical text. I subconsciously use spatial memory, recalling that a specific quote was located near the bottom of the left-hand page—something that is completely impossible with a digital file. Furthermore, I take immense pride in my sprawling bookshelves. They serve as a colourful, visual diary of my entire life, showcasing exactly what I was fascinated by at various stages of my personal development. Gadgets might save space, but they strip away the soul of reading. The thickness of high-quality paper between your fingers provides a comforting, grounding sensation that technology simply cannot match. Whenever someone tries to convince me to buy an e-reader, I firmly decline; a house without physical books just doesn’t feel like a home.

C Marcus

To me, reading is a sacred ritual that demands the right physical tools. I suffer terribly from digital eye strain, so staring at another glowing screen in the evening is completely out of the question. Instead, I crave the reassuring heaviness of a substantial novel resting in my hands, and the crisp, distinct rustle of the pages as the story progresses. It’s an auditory and tactile pleasure that an e-reader utterly fails to provide. Moreover, many of my most treasured possessions are the battered, dog-eared novels that were handed down to me by my grandfather. These inherited volumes contain his handwritten notes in the margins, making them irreplaceable family heirlooms. You simply cannot attach that level of sentimental value to a downloaded file hidden inside a plastic device. The physical presence of a book connects me directly to the past.

D Elena

I genuinely don’t understand the appeal of electronic reading devices. In my view, holding a freshly bought novel is an experience to be savoured. I absolutely adore the sharp, distinct fragrance of newly printed ink and crisp paper when you crack open a book for the very first time. It is a scent that instantly fills me with anticipation. Beyond the smell, the intricate, embossed textures of a beautifully crafted hardback cover are a work of art in themselves. Because my daily employment involves managing endless emails, reading on a screen feels far too much like being back in the office. It represents a deliberate escape from my nine-to-five routine. Additionally, I’ve always believed that a physical book makes the perfect present. Handing a friend a carefully chosen, beautifully wrapped novel is deeply personal, whereas emailing them a digital voucher feels incredibly cold and transactional.

Exercises:   123456