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I. How to Write an Essay on an Autobiography of a Book?

  • Introduction

Since it is an autobiographical essay on a book, start by mentioning its birth, as in, at a book manufacturing company, then the various stages of the book, like being sold to shopkeepers, books being bought by a customer, etc.

  • Describe How the Book Went Through Different Hands, right from its Creation till It Grows Old.
    • You can mention in the form of a story how you, as a book, went from a shop to a birthday gift to a child to the hands of an old man. You can write it in a way as if the book is travelling from one person to another.
    • Mention how you are taking care of the book. (cleaning the dust, keeping it inside a cupboard). How do people use bookmarks?
  • Describe How the Owner Treats the Book.

You can mention how few readers treated the book. Remember, while writing, you are writing as if you were the book.

Outline for an Autobiography on a Non-Living Object

Write about how the object exists (Creation, location, looks).

Recall your past experiences with it. (For example, you borrowed a book or scribbled on it or tore it by mistake or kept it clean).

Stop thinking of it as a non-living object. (Try to put yourself in their place and think about how you would've felt if you had been a book.)

Write as the first person using first person pronouns. The tense of the sentence will be in the past tense.

Write about its bad and good times.

You can include dialogues to make it interesting.

Give it a character (The book could be old and wise or young and immature or as a good character or a bad character).

Sample on Autobiography?

I am writing a short story book titled ‘51 Stories for You’. I have a beautiful and colourful cover with the title on it. I was placed at a bookstore in the college street location of Kolkata.

Every day the staff of the bookstore would dust me well and my friends, who were all near me. Since I was a new book, he kept me in a glass cupboard with other short story English books for various age groups.

One day a young girl probably came with her mother to buy books. After buying a few books, she glanced at the cupboard I was in. She instantly picked me up and then smelled me. Her mother told the shopkeeper that her daughter loved the smell of new books. She flipped through the pages. Her mom asked her if she wanted me or not. I thought to myself, “Please take me with you as I am bored sitting in the closet”. Finally, she said yes, and I was purchased. She put the books in her bag.

They got up in the metro, and it was my first metro ride. It was a little crowded as I felt someone pushing me from the back. She kept me in a drawer upon reaching home. At night when she was about to sleep, she took me out of the drawer and started reading the first story. She enjoyed the first story. Then her mom told her to go off to sleep. That is when I knew that her name was Natasha. She took a bookmark that was created previously and placed it on the page that she had the last read.

Every day she read one story; by the time she finished, it had been 51 days. I understood that I was interesting enough to read. I thought that she would give me away to people who buy books. Luckily, a friend of hers had visited her one day, and on seeing me, she immediately asked for it. Natasha lends me to Saanvi.

Saanvi’s brother saw me in her hands and snatched it. I got irritated, and in their fight over me, I got torn into two parts. Saanvi’s mother scolded both of them for tearing me. Saanvi became sad. She took me to her dad. He used glue and sellotape to put me back into one piece. The next morning, Saanvi’s dad covered the book with another see-through plastic cover and stapled it. Saanvi was happy to see me all perfect, like a new book.

She, with her brother, read me daily. Saanvi gave it back to her friend and told her about how good I was and how I got torn, and her dad fixed it. I was happy to be returned back to my owner. I thought I would have to sit on the shelf for days on end, but Natasha’s grandpa asked for me. Her grandpa kept me right on his study table beside a beautiful lampshade. I stayed there for a long time till one of Natasha’s cousins tore me into pieces and threw me in the dustbin.

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