Presentations nobody sleeps through: the prompt chain

Think of the last presentation that bored you. It probably was not the topic, it was that someone read eight minutes of crowded slides without ever telling you why it should matter to you. Now think of the one you still remember: it opened with something concrete, it had three ideas, and you could tell the person understood what they were saying.

The chain, in three prompts

I have to present on [TOPIC] in [SUBJECT], [MINUTES] minutes, in front of my class ([YEAR GROUP]) and the teacher. Before any content: ask me five questions to work out what this audience already knows and cares about. Then propose three different hooks for the first thirty seconds (a question, a concrete number, a short scene) and tell me which kind of audience each one grabs. Do not write the presentation yet.

I am going with this hook: [CHOSEN HOOK]. Now help me structure it: I want exactly three points, no more and no fewer. Here is what I know about the topic: [YOUR RAW NOTES]. Sort my ideas into three points, each with one concrete example, plus a one sentence close. Give me a bullet outline only, not written out prose: I want to say it in my own words. And flag the places where my information is thin and I should check a source.

I am about to rehearse out loud. Act as a critical but friendly listener my age: after each point, ask me two questions someone who knows nothing about the topic would ask, plus one hard question the teacher might ask. At the end tell me which part did not land and which sentence I should cut for length. Do not compliment me: I want to know what is broken.

• Six words on a slide, not six lines. If it is all written up there, they read you instead of listening to you.
• One image that adds something, not one filling space. And no image whose origin you cannot explain.
• Rehearse standing up and out loud, twice. Running it in your head does not count: your mouth trips over things your eyes skim past.
• Time your rehearsal. Almost everyone overruns, and overrunning is what makes the ending feel rushed.
• Prepare a line for the moment you do not know something: I do not know, I will check and tell you tomorrow. It sounds far better than making it up.

On the day, the advantage does not go to whoever wrote the most, it goes to whoever said their words out loud the most times. That is where AI earns its place: you can rehearse at eleven at night, when nobody at home wants to play audience any more, and it gives you questions back instead of applause.