How to Write an Autobiographical Essay on a Pencil?

A pencil is considered one of the best tools to write, draw, and scribble. Imagine yourself as a pencil to be able to write an autobiography about it. Let us have a look at how we can write an autobiography with a pencil.

1. An Introduction

Start writing the essay as an autobiographical account of a pencil. Imagine that you are the pencil itself. Mention your birth and location. For instance, it was manufactured in a factory, then kept in a stationery shop, then in a child’s pencil box, or in the hands of an artist.

2. Describe How the Pencil Is Used by Users

You can mention in the form of a story how the pencil is used or the uses of pencil. You can also mention its friends like erasers, sharpeners, pens, etc.
OR

You could also write differently about how the pencil landed in the hands of an artist.

3. Mention Any Significant Incident

Write about any notable incident or something that affected you as a pencil.

4. Discuss How People Handled Pencils

Mention how you were treated by people or kids. You can write about your experiences with each of them.

5. Conclusion

Mention how you would like to lead your life in the future or what you would like to change.

6. Sample: Autobiographical Essay on Pencil

I was born in a factory that manufactured pencils. It was a green-coloured pencil with black stripes on it. The brand name was also printed in black on me. Slowly, I was packed with other pencils in the pencil cover. Thereafter, I was sent to a stationery shop selling school supplies.

Our pencil packet was placed with other brands’ pencils. One day, a kid came with his father to buy a few things. He bought a pencil box, a sharpener, an eraser and a ruler. His eyes glanced at the shelf where many pencils were kept, including mine. The shopkeeper suggested my brand and a few others. The child first selected a pack of yellow pencils, and then he took our pack also. I was excited.

He took us along with other items home, and his mother kept all of them in the cupboard. I was in the dark cupboard for several days. One day, his mother opened the pack of green pencils. She took me out first. She sharpened me, and that hurted me. The boy took me to school in his pencil box with others. I was with the eraser, sharpener, ruler, and yellow pencil. The boy thrust his bag onto the seat of his school bus. All of us got a jolt inside the pencil box. I got angry at the eraser as it sat on me.

Finally, he took me out of his English class. His friend who sat next to him asked, “Is this a new pencil? Looks good”. The boy replied, “Yeah, let’s see how long this goes”. He wrote a few things that the teacher said. The first day went pretty well for me. He would sharpen me once every two days. Sometimes he would write with me, draw, or even scribble at the back of his books.

One day, he held the back side, or rather the eraser and ferrule of mine, in his mouth. I felt so terrible and suffocated. Then his teacher shouted, as she didn’t like kids putting pencils in their mouths. I was relieved. He uses that white eraser to rub me off. Gradually, I was getting smaller as he used me endlessly. So he took his dad’s pen cap and covered me with it, as he found it hard to hold me and write. That looked good on me, though.

He stopped taking me to school and used me at home to write or do rough things. I was in the last days of my life. I could be sharpened once more, and I would be finished.

I lived a happy life. I fulfilled my purpose, which was to help people express what they want to, in words or drawings.