I just re-read a trilogy I enjoyed as a teenager. Emily of New Moon, Emily Climbs and Emily's Quest (the links are to the pretty puffin edition, they actually belong to my sister Emily). They're lovely books. The first is very reminiscent of the first couple of Anne books, a childhood story of an Orphan girl on Prince Edward Island. Emily is a writer, and the three books follow her stumbling steps on the Alpine Path towards fame. The last is a sweet romance as well. And by the end I was crying. Oddly not just the usual happy tears of an ending which has turned out nicely for those you've come to love, but also somehow sad tears for myself, for no reason I can put my finger on. I like them better than the Annes I've read so far, perhaps because I was younger when I first encountered them.