Autobiography of A Book

I am a book of detective stories. My home is in a library. I live on a shelf with a lot of other books. Before I came to the library I lived in a warehouse. I remember being on a shelf with a lot of books which looked exactly like me. Then I was sent to the library. Others went to a bookshop. People often take me from the library to their homes to read me. Some people take good care of me. They make sure that their hands are clean before reading me. They put a bookmark in me when they stop reading for a while. Then they know from where to start again. Other people treat me badly. They turn down the corners of my pages so they know where to start again. Other people treat me badly. They turn down the corners of my pages so they know where to start reading again. They read me with dirty hands. Some people read me in the bath and I get wet. One time, someone dropped me in bathwater! I am quite old now and I am a bit torn and dirty. My pages used to be really white. Now they look grey. When I first came to live in the library the colours on my cover were very bright. Now they have faded.