Well, hello there! I’m Cynthia St. Aubin, and if we’re already friends, please tell your cat(s)/pup(s)/other four-legged, finned, scaled, or feathered roommates hello for me! If we’ve yet to bump into each other in the Reader-verse or book-related social media, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Pretty much everything you need to know about me for the purposes of this post, you can pretty much get from my Instagram bio: Spicy paranormal/rom com book writer. Cheese hussy. Neurodivergent aspiring cat lady.
It’s that last bit I’d like to chat about here (the neurodivergent bit, not the cat lady bit, though you are 100% welcome to find me on social media if you want to talk about my cats because yes, please!!).
Though I’ve pretty much been scribbling stories since I read my first Little Golden Book on the big, blue rug of my Kindergarten home room class (I’m not saying they were Pulitzer-worthy or anything, but they totally earned a gold star or, if I was really lucky a scratch n’ sniff sticker), I didn’t actually start publishing them until about ten years ago. Though the paranormal mysteries referred to in my bio may have been my first crush, I proceeded to become deeply infatuated with writing spicy contemporary romance before falling madly in love with crafting representation rom coms.
As one of the many adult women who lives with late-diagnosed AuDHD, I spent the majority of my life struggling with difficulties I didn’t even know were related to owning a brain that worked a little differently. And by “differently,” I mean in frequent conflict with the many systems and structures (often designed by neurotypical humans) that are required to navigate daily life. I, like so many other neurodivergent readers and writers I’ve spoken to, developed a deeply embedded belief that there was something “wrong” with me that prevented me from functioning like my peers. This, in turn, fed the belief that the difficulties I experienced just trying to function somehow made me more difficult to love. A painful reality that is precisely why I became so passionate about representing neurodivergent characters in my books.
Mostly, because none of the heroines in the romance novels I’d been obsessed with since I was tall enough to reach the closet shelf containing my mother’s circa 1970’s collection seemed to be wrestling with any of the challenges that I did. Most of their struggles could be traced back to dashing dukes and passionate pirates. Not sensory overwhelm or executive dysfunction. I devoured every word, don’t get me wrong (some of them several times over), but it wouldn’t be until the word “quirky” started popping up in book copy that I began to find characters that shared some of my life-management struggles.
Which is why the process of writing The Summer of Perfect Mistakes proved to be both a cathartic and healing experience for me. Burnt-out former gifted kid/valedictorian Lark Hockney allowed me to share my own hard-won discovery that messes can be magical, chaos can be a catalyst, and love can find you at your lowest.
With publishers like Afterglow making it their express mission to amplify relatable stories featuring diverse bodies, brains, and backstories, writers have the opportunity to draw awareness to and foster acceptance of traditionally underrepresented communities. Not only allowing us to make a much broader audience feel seen and accepted, but also, more importantly, as worthy of love. Deserving of a happily-ever-after. Even when it arrives perpetually late, frozen in executive paralysis, bravely battling depression, and desperately in need of a dopamine-inducing snack.
The Summer of Perfect Mistakes is out now!
An achingly authentic, emotional summer romance about learning to color outside the lines.
You can’t have the breakthrough without the breakdown…
No one in Spring Valley recognizes Lark Hockney anymore. They only remember who she used to be. Homecoming queen. Valedictorian. And one half of Spring Valley High’s golden couple. But Lark knows that her once-perfect life wasn’t really perfect. Hell, it wasn’t even her. And in one evening, she lost it…and that perfect girl is gone forever.
Now Lark’s trying to put the fragile pieces back together, with no idea of where to start. She’s only a faint sketch of the person she was, with blurry, tentative lines—and under the constant scrutiny of her overbearing parents. The only bright spot in her life is a community art class taught by Nick Hoffman, the esoteric and unreasonably hot guy from high school. And he’s not interested in a “perfect” Lark at all…
Suddenly Lark’s world is taking shape and the colors are growing more vibrant, from afternoon margaritas with Southern-fried divorcées to late-night apple pie with chocolate ice cream and an increasingly spicy situationship with Nick.
But what she’s found comes with a “best before summer’s end” expiration date. And Lark doesn’t know if she can ever truly let go of aiming for perfect…
