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wincent_arthur 's review for:
Cubs & Campfires
by Dylan Drakes
funny
hopeful
lighthearted
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
There are two things you have to know about me before I properly start this review. One, I’m asexual. Two, I’m not an enthusiastic fan of romance, especially not smutty romance. Just after those two sentences, you might ask: “So, uh… Why did you read a smutty romance then?” Well, because I felt like branching out a little. I wanted to try and take a step outside of my usual comfort zone, and the author popped up once or twice on my FYP with a video promoting his books, and as I found him quite good-hearted and enthusiastic, I wanted to give his book a chance.
And I’m so glad I did.
Cubs & Campfires is a short story, so for someone who is currently attempting to crawl out of the pits of hellish reading slump, it felt like an appropriate and inviting companion on this gruelling journey. It’s written in simple, exhausted-brain-friendly prose, one you fly through with ease and joy.
Opening the book, I was greeted with the Content Guidance. I’m an advocate for Trigger and Content Warnings in books (if and when needed), so this preface was much appreciated. The author admits that some proper precautions are overlooked for the sake and simplicity of the plot, and should not be forgotten or replicated in the real world. I understand why they were omitted, and I appreciate the author’s honesty. At the same time, I was very happy to see characters consult each other about their tested sexual health and up-to-date information before engaging in sexual activity. That’s not an exchange I see often in the media, but it’s one that definitely should be included more. Health and consent of all parties involved should be the top priority!
From the get-go, I had to suspend my disbelief just a teeny-tiny bit. The whole premise of the plot is to stay celibate for three months to secure a well-paying job, and then (inevitably and quite wholesomely) failing to do so. Please, recall the first thing I told you about myself in the opening paragraph. Yes, as an asexual person, I found the premise quite amusing, if not sometimes unrealistic. I will never deny that sex is an important aspect to some, but struggling so much to refrain from it for just 90 days? My disbelief had to be suspended from the highest branch of a sequoia, but—and I admit this wholeheartedly—without this struggle, we wouldn’t experience the wholesomeness of Luca and Artair.
Wholesomeness is one of the most prominent aspects of their relationship, falling just short of first place, beaten by steam. Those boys (who, I come to find out, are younger than me!) can’t keep their hands away from one another. My struggle with smutty romances is that the descriptions of physical attractiveness do nothing for me, and aphantasia is not exactly helping with that. Honestly, if the reader were to take a swing of water every time the characters thirst over soft bellies and amazing asses, they would have to be rushed to the hospital with water poisoning. Cubs & Campfires has an abundance of those descriptions, undeniably written by someone who appreciates and worships beefy men and all that comes with masculinity. I read mostly while commuting, so the way how Luca and Artair were described (and kept describing and admire each other) made me look up from the book and out of the window of the bus, not by being ridiculous or “too much”, but rather because I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot, because those two horndogs were just a duo of silly, adorable (and very into one another) geese.
Despite not being able to fully connect with the feelings shared by the characters, I devoured the story, and now I’m craving more. The second book is already lined up on my list; that’s how much I enjoyed reading Cubs & Campfires. It’s sweet, not at all bitter, it’s sappy, and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. In conclusion, a perfect short summer read.
And I’m so glad I did.
Cubs & Campfires is a short story, so for someone who is currently attempting to crawl out of the pits of hellish reading slump, it felt like an appropriate and inviting companion on this gruelling journey. It’s written in simple, exhausted-brain-friendly prose, one you fly through with ease and joy.
Opening the book, I was greeted with the Content Guidance. I’m an advocate for Trigger and Content Warnings in books (if and when needed), so this preface was much appreciated. The author admits that some proper precautions are overlooked for the sake and simplicity of the plot, and should not be forgotten or replicated in the real world. I understand why they were omitted, and I appreciate the author’s honesty. At the same time, I was very happy to see characters consult each other about their tested sexual health and up-to-date information before engaging in sexual activity. That’s not an exchange I see often in the media, but it’s one that definitely should be included more. Health and consent of all parties involved should be the top priority!
From the get-go, I had to suspend my disbelief just a teeny-tiny bit. The whole premise of the plot is to stay celibate for three months to secure a well-paying job, and then (inevitably and quite wholesomely) failing to do so. Please, recall the first thing I told you about myself in the opening paragraph. Yes, as an asexual person, I found the premise quite amusing, if not sometimes unrealistic. I will never deny that sex is an important aspect to some, but struggling so much to refrain from it for just 90 days? My disbelief had to be suspended from the highest branch of a sequoia, but—and I admit this wholeheartedly—without this struggle, we wouldn’t experience the wholesomeness of Luca and Artair.
Wholesomeness is one of the most prominent aspects of their relationship, falling just short of first place, beaten by steam. Those boys (who, I come to find out, are younger than me!) can’t keep their hands away from one another. My struggle with smutty romances is that the descriptions of physical attractiveness do nothing for me, and aphantasia is not exactly helping with that. Honestly, if the reader were to take a swing of water every time the characters thirst over soft bellies and amazing asses, they would have to be rushed to the hospital with water poisoning. Cubs & Campfires has an abundance of those descriptions, undeniably written by someone who appreciates and worships beefy men and all that comes with masculinity. I read mostly while commuting, so the way how Luca and Artair were described (and kept describing and admire each other) made me look up from the book and out of the window of the bus, not by being ridiculous or “too much”, but rather because I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot, because those two horndogs were just a duo of silly, adorable (and very into one another) geese.
Despite not being able to fully connect with the feelings shared by the characters, I devoured the story, and now I’m craving more. The second book is already lined up on my list; that’s how much I enjoyed reading Cubs & Campfires. It’s sweet, not at all bitter, it’s sappy, and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. In conclusion, a perfect short summer read.