Anyway, on another note, random googling of other teenage-years-books leads me to the discovery of the title "Tom Swift and His Big Tunnel" which trumps anything Biggles can offer, I fancy. Oooh, or "Tom Swift and His Great Oil Gusher". *sporfles*
...OMG, Franklin W Dixon doesn't actually exist. I'm going to stop now before I discover anything else upsetting.
....Frances K. Judd (Kay Tracey books, which I'd forgotten about until I saw the link) apparently isn't real either. I feel sullied and unusual. And not in a good way.
(Incidentally, this is apparently post number 1,001. Why yes, this would have been more relevant had I noticed while posting the last one. Ho hum.)