So read Maire Brennan's A Natural History of Dragons this weekend. And I enjoyed it! Although it wasn't long enough.
You know those tales of the late-Victorian age, of robust elderly ladies who march out into the wilderness and have great adventures, ignoring propriety because they have both funds and experience? This book is about the creation of one of those fierce old biddies, starting at age 11 with her attempt to dissect a dead bird.
One could bill this as Jane Austen with Dragons: a loose alternate universe in which country names and maps are different but the social context is much the same as our early 1800s, except for the fact that dragons exist and our heroine is utterly fascinated by them. Except she is a well-bred young lady and such interests are considered far too outre and inappropriate. She finds a way, anyway, via some supportive family members and an advantageous marriage.
It's clearly the first of a series, and my major complaint is that the next one isn't in my hands right now, darn it.
I'm a bit disappointed I was so busy yesterday, because Brennan was doing a signing at Borderlands in SF and it would have been fun to meet her. Ah, well. Perhaps another time.