63 books like The Part about the Dragon Was (Mostly) True

A friend recommended this series to me and, because we both enjoy British literature, I knew I’d give it a go.

What I didn’t expect was to be so utterly charmed, not just by the Britishism, but by the premise: literary detectives must stop her former professor before he can murder Jane Eyre…and have the heroine disappear from literature forever.

The alternative reality is a surreal, quirky 1985 that I reveled in (who wouldn’t want a pet dodo, airships, literary detectors, or a Prose Portal?), but it’s Thursday Next’s insights into her own mistakes, human motivation, and the beauty of the written word that gripped me until I’d finished the last page.

Mona is a fourteen-year-old wizard with power over bread and other baked goods.

She has a sourdough starter named Bob for a familiar. Do I need to say more?

Well, there’s more. Mona creates animated gingerbread companions, bread golems, and more. It’s a fun and creative and thoroughly entertaining idea. The story can be dark at times, but how can you resist a book with lines like, “Death by sourdough starter. Not a good way to go.”

It is a truth universally acknowledged that someone with a name like Miss Mildred Percy, a noted spinster living under her overwhelmingly generous and loving sister’s roof, does not inherit dragons’ eggs. Or bump into helpful and – one can’t help but notice – broad-shouldered, hat-wearing, single vicars. She’d swoon herself into dehydration if she knew what was still to come: raising a baby dragon (named Fitz); a proper Bad Boy villain with little money and relentless motivation (named Belinda); and, perhaps the most difficult, finding her own agency. Agnes Nitt would never. Perdita X Dream, however, might…

Miss Percy is the best book I’ve read in 2021 – it felt as if I inherited a manuscript signed by three of my favourite authors. Couldn’t recommend it more.

When Gadriel, an ex-guardian-currently-fallen angel bets against Barachiel, definitely-not-the-angel-of-gamblers, the latter wins – to nobody’s (including Gadriel’s) surprise. To pay the debt Gabriel must tempt the terminally sin-free Holly Harker to be a bit less of an Agnes (or an early Mildred) and more of a Perdita (or a late Mildred). Unfortunately, Holly has no experience at being nice to herself, even in perfectly wholesome ways. Neither Lady Gadriel, Sir Gadriel, Adorkable Fluffy Kitten Gadriel, nor chocolate will tempt her! The villains include an evil secondary school history teacher, a teen band leader whose mother is definitely not called Karen, and grief.

Small Miracles is hilarious, wonderfully queer, sweet, thoughtful, and occasionally heartbreaking. I never thought a cosy YA urban fantasy would become my favourite book of 2022.

I don't ordinarily care for stories about dragons or speaking animals, but this book's beautifully written descriptions of them and their world made it compelling, and the singing dragons remained in my memory long after the first time I read it. Moreover, the familiar elements of such fantasy–a hidden prince, animal companions, magical objects, imprisonment in a dungeon, and so forth--are here presented in unique and believable ways. The protagonists are heroic but vulnerable and the villains who seek to enslave the world are truly evil, so that the reader feels that what happens to them really matters. And looking it over recently, I was struck by the realization that in the years since its first publication in the 1980s the timeliness of the story has increased.

This beautiful volume of three stories about a princess who deals with a spider-enchantress, a pair of feuding wizards, and a benevolent old dragon in her kingdom features pristine, gorgeous illustrations and a sweet-but-strong heroine. I just really love how Princess Cecile is a brave and sensible person and the twist that the real Cecile actually lives in our world and writes about Belamor was really smart, gently suggesting that princess stories are not just escapist fantasy, but an important part of self-expression for young girls as they grow up. It’s rare for me to find anything that so perfectly captures this idyllic genre. Marilyn Churchill has created a new fairy tale.

Barczak’s work belongs to that realm of poetic fiction that is occupied by Robert E. Howard and Janet Morris. Veil of the Dragon plays out like a vivid nightmare. This is the kind of fantasy novel that makes you want to pause in the middle of the paragraph you’re reading, go back to the beginning, and read out loud just to see how the words sound. Poetic fantasy takes you to another level.

Todd Lockwood makes amazing dragon art. How could I not want to read his debut novel?! These dragons and their bonds are a bit different from my other recommendations, more towards the non-magical way of how we humans can build bonds with horses, dogs, and other animals. This coming-of-age story focuses on Maia as she finds her own way and fights for a place in the world. Lockwood’s writing skill is as fine as his painting and more than once I was amazed by the beauty of how he worded certain things. The (sometimes graphic) action was exciting, and the entire book delivered a well-rounded adventure with dragons. As a bonus, there’s some very nice art included in the book as well.

Dragonsong is the science fantasy story of an isolated teenage girl who runs away from home when forbidden to pursue her passion for music. She stumbles on a nest of fire lizards—the legendary ancestors of the dragons that keep her world safe—and must stop hiding her identity and use her gifts to aid the dragonriders in their crucial mission. 

This book has the SF/F holy trinity of great plot, characters, and world-building—but what really hooked me was the multi-dimensional female main character that I connected to immediately. I’m a musician and creative thinker, too, so I could see myself in Menolly. This book is for anyone who has ever been told to hide part of who they are—and anyone who loves dragons, of course.

The reason I fell in love with George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire goes hand in hand with why I love J.R.R. Tolkien’s work. GRRM’s series builds upon the work of his classic contemporary, layering a darker, grittier veil over the genre of epic fantasy. A Dance with Dragons, in my opinion, further builds upon the subject of power and politics as well as duty and honour. The “relativity of evil” is something that particularly stands out in this fifth installment, which is constructed so brilliantly and so effectively, it has completely changed the way I build grey and morally ambiguous characters. Its soft magic system, featuring things such as “greensight”, “shadow-binding” and “face-changing” is one of my favourite magic systems in ages.