Some people spend a lifetime becoming who the world needs them to be.
Loren Thomas has built a life on competence. At work, she's the one everyone trusts. At home, she's the one everyone depends on. Then Tuesday becomes more than a day of the week. It becomes a warning.
An unexplained mistake. A phone call she can't forget. Quiet fractures that refuse to stay hidden. As the pattern becomes impossible to ignore, Loren begins to wonder whether Tuesday is something to fear—or the day that might finally reveal what she's spent a lifetime avoiding.
Because beneath the carefully managed life is a woman who has become so good at surviving that she can no longer tell where responsibility ends and she begins. And when the identity she's spent years building starts to fracture, Loren is forced to confront an uncomfortable question: Who is she when being capable is no longer enough to hold her together?
Set against the quiet rhythms of coastal San Diego, Always on a Tuesday explores the space between appearing fine and actually being well, and what happens when survival is no longer the same thing as living.
Always on a Tuesday is a psychologically rich literary novel about identity, resilience, and the hidden cost of competence.
This was a five star read for me, but not for the reasons my five star reads usually are. I wasn’t swept away by excitement or completely consumed by the plot. Instead, there was something so beautifully quiet about the way this explored mental health, trauma and identity that really shook me.
From the opening chapter, Loren’s life feels like organised chaos. Work, relationships and responsibilities continually pile up, yet she remains incredibly competent. As the story progresses, that competence begins to feel less like a personality trait and more like a coping mechanism. Loren doesn’t merely take responsibility, she uses responsibility as a means of control. If she isn’t solving the problem, carrying the weight or being the person everyone can rely upon, then who is she?
The portrayal of trauma was exceptional. So much of what Loren experiences feels like residual, accumulated trauma, and the writing makes its physical effects incredibly palpable. Her body responds before she can necessarily understand why, and the descriptions of panic, tension and release felt incredibly real.
“Trauma isn’t ranked. It’s registered.”
That line stayed with me because it captures so much of what this book does beautifully. It doesn’t try to justify or compare trauma. Instead, it explores what happens when experiences have been registered by the body and mind, even when someone hasn’t yet found the language to understand them.
I also loved what the book does with Tuesday itself. Tuesday becomes something Loren’s brain can point towards, a pattern that rationalises something she doesn’t yet understand. There is something incredibly human about our need to make sense of what is happening to us.
Loren isn’t a character I fell madly in love with, and strangely, I think the book is stronger for it. There was enough distance for me to reflect on my own understanding of trauma and how differently other people might experience it. The writing never becomes overly clinical, but it doesn’t trivialise mental health either. It simply makes it human.
The plot is deliberately quiet because the internal discovery matters far more than creating external drama. The ending understands that too. Nothing is wrapped neatly in a pretty little bow. Things have simply moved forward, and the story knows exactly when to leave Loren.
I think this could be incredibly valuable both for people who recognise something of themselves in Loren and for those trying to understand what living with trauma and mental health difficulties can actually feel like.
This wasn’t a book I loved because it entertained me. I loved it because it made me stop, recognise, question and think.
Loren Thomas has built her life around being the person everyone can count on, both at work and at home. But when a series of unsettling events begins to unravel her carefully managed world, she is forced to confront the parts of herself she has spent a lifetime avoiding. Set against the coastal backdrop of San Diego, this psychologically rich novel explores identity, resilience, and the difference between simply surviving and truly living.
This story does a beautiful job exploring how unresolved grief, trauma, and overwhelm can build over time until they eventually become too much to carry.
For years, Loren has been doing what so many of us do: pushing her feelings aside, trying to please everyone, and molding herself into the person she believes others need her to be. She has become so good at being capable and dependable that somewhere along the way, she has lost sight of who she really is.
As life continues to throw challenges her way, Loren reaches a breaking point and realizes she can no longer carry everything on her own. Her journey through seeking help, receiving a diagnosis, and learning to process her emotions is portrayed with such honesty and compassion.
One of the themes that resonated with me most, both as a reader and a therapist, was the exploration of grief. Grief isn't something we simply check off a list and move on from. It isn't limited to the death of a loved one, either. We grieve relationships, the lives we thought we would have, and the versions of ourselves we have had to leave behind.
Through therapy, Loren begins to understand that her emotions aren't something to fear or suppress. She learns the importance of allowing herself to feel, sharing her story, and recognizing that her worth extends far beyond what she can accomplish or provide for others. I also appreciated the realistic portrayal of the mental health field, including the challenges people can face when seeking help and the profound difference a skilled, compassionate therapist can make.
Raw, honest, and, most of all, hopeful. This is a powerful story about learning to accept yourself, making space for your emotions, and discovering that you don't have to hold everything together all the time.
Thank you to Lizette Tupas for providing me with an early copy of her debut novel!
I've always thought it's the random things you never worry about that suddenly arrive and change everything on an ordinary Tuesday, so the title immediately caught my attention. I enjoyed the honesty and openness of this book. I particularly liked that the protagonist is analytical because of her job, and the relationship with her therapist added an interesting layer as she worked through and examined her thoughts. It felt authentic and relatable rather than offering easy answers. A thoughtful and engaging read that I genuinely enjoyed.
In Always on a Tuesday, we see Loren Thomas slowly come apart under the crushing weight of a lifetime of expectations. Thank you to NetGalley Studio LT Press for the ARC my review is voluntary. The author’s portrayal of anxiety, both its mental and physical manifestations, evokes a visceral response. For readers who haven’t experienced these feelings firsthand, it can be eye-opening. Thankfully, there’s hope woven throughout the narrative. We see informative examples of both helpful and unhelpful responses from Lauren’s friends, as well as good and bad professional interventions that help set standards. It’s not an easy read by any means, but ultimately, it’s a positive one.
Imagine being the person everyone turns to when something goes wrong, the one who fixes problems, handles family responsibilities, keeps things moving at work, and somehow always manages to look like she has it together.
That’s Loren Santo Tomas.
But when a massive $220 million work discrepancy, her nephew’s personal crisis, and a series of overwhelming events hit her all at once, Loren’s carefully controlled life begins to unravel.
And honestly, this is where her real story begins.
As the pressure builds, Loren starts experiencing flashbacks, anxiety, insomnia, and moments where simply getting through the day feels impossible.
She takes a step back from work and finally seeks professional help. What follows is her journey through therapy, medication, an unexpected Bipolar II diagnosis, and eventually an Intensive Outpatient Program.
I really liked that the story doesn’t make healing look easy or instant.
Loren struggles, questions herself, sets boundaries, asks for help, and slowly learns to understand what’s happening inside her.
But this book isn’t just about mental health.
There’s family, love, identity, childhood trauma, workplace pressure, and the complicated expectations that come with being the “responsible one” in an immigrant family.
Loren is also trying to understand her own sexuality and what attraction means to her, while navigating her relationship with Bethany and worrying about her nephew Todd.
One thing I particularly enjoyed was the recurring Tuesday theme.
So many of Loren’s biggest moments happen on Tuesdays that the day almost becomes a character itself!
But as Loren progresses through her healing journey, Tuesday slowly changes from something she associates with fear and crisis into simply, another day.
Always on a Tuesday is an emotional and deeply introspective story about a woman who spends years being everyone’s “strong one” before finally realizing that she deserves care too.
There’s a lot to appreciate in Always on a Tuesday. I was drawn to its exploration of a woman experiencing a breakdown while a past trauma slowly comes into view. Loren is easy to care about: she’s someone people depend on, with responsibilities she takes seriously, and I felt for her as her ability to cope began to unravel. The ending, with its sense of hope and the possibility of a brighter future, moved me.
I did wish we had more of the people around her. For much of the book, the other characters remain in the background, leaving Loren to carry almost the entire novel alone. More space for their voices and her relationships with them would have helped me feel closer to her world.
I also found myself wanting more variety in the emotional journey. There’s a long stretch in which things keep getting worse, with few moments of relief or contrast. Over time, that made some passages feel repetitive, even though I remained interested in what was happening to her.
Some major developments also seemed to fade from view after being introduced as urgent and significant. Without giving anything away, I sometimes wondered what had happened to situations that had mattered deeply just a few chapters earlier. I didn’t need constant updates, but I wanted to feel their continuing presence in her life.
At several important moments, I wanted the writing to stay with the particulars a little longer. The atmosphere and distress come through, but I sometimes struggled to picture exactly what was happening or understand its implications. More concrete detail would have helped those moments land for me.
Ultimately, I cared about Loren and was glad to reach that hopeful ending with her. I just wished for a fuller sense of the people and circumstances around her, and more variation along the way.
I received an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
The inner pressure to know all the answers, be the dependable one, fit in to the everyone’s expectations, and seem effortless while doing…it…all… Loren is a character that I felt such a deep connection and my hope in recommending this book is that someone else also gets to experience that level of being seen.
This book executes a honest lens of mental health care in its current state, and how difficult it can be to find the exact type of help that you need. There was really a message here to check in on th people around you - your family, coworkers, and partners - because in the smallest of things you could notice a small outward sign of something that might be broken inside. It’s a contract to the numbing that corporate life can bring - a very real reminder that there are people behind the Excel sheets, Teams messages and emails.
I loved that this story showed a voice of a Filipino-American in healthcare administration outside of the typical nurse role. As a Filipino-American myself, I feel like the representation of family dynamics was true to my experience - especially the barriers of communication and the things that just aren’t talked about or dealt with an open mind. In another light, the languages of love spoke deeply to me as well, the warmth of making sure you’re loved ones have eaten and letting an extended family member crash at your place.
This was such an eloquent and personal way to portray the struggles of mental health - showing that sometimes allowing ourselves to be without judgement can be our greatest nemesis.
WOW. Always on a Tuesday is one of those rare books that does not describe anxiety so much as hand it to you. Lizzete S. Tupas writes from so far inside Loren’s nervous system that you feel the warmth gathering under the sternum before the mind has a story to explain it. The fear arrives without context, without a memory attached, without an image to point to, and the reader is left standing perfectly still alongside her, bracing for something neither of you can see. That is the achievement here. Most books about mental health explain. This one transmits.
Loren is a woman who found order in numbers until the numbers stopped holding. A misplaced modifier multiplies quietly into a 220 million dollar variance, and the correction does not close the fracture so much as move it. The question that follows, whether we can ever find them all, becomes the question the whole book turns on. As bad news accumulates, Loren unravels, or perhaps she finally notices an unraveling that had been gradual for years and has only now become urgent. At one point she admits, “it was easier than saying I didn’t know why my own body kept trying to escape situations I had willingly walked into.”
Readers who found language for themselves in The Body Keeps the Score will find something similar here, though this is a novel and it earns its insight through story rather than clinical framing. One line lingers long after the page turns: “Desperation has a way of lowering the threshold for hope.” When Loren finally has a name for what is happening, nothing aligns neatly the way numbers do, but she learns there is a way forward through looking back, and that she was never doing it alone. Incredible book.
Loren Thomas (LT) is the dependable anchor for everyone around her. However, when an unexpected error and a mysterious phone call disrupt her structured life, Tuesday becomes a tense catalyst forcing her to confront her hidden vulnerabilities.
This book completely pulled me into a world of inner turmoil. Written as a first-person narrative, the prose puts you right inside a vulnerable mind, making you experience the weight of a severe mental health struggle. The main character, LT, goes through life doing everything on autopilot, hiding just how overwhelmed she truly feels. Watching her navigate this state made me tense, yet the text is so beautifully written that I found myself highlighting sentences throughout the pages.
The story resonated with me because of its unique rhythm. It is a quiet read that does not rush the reader. This is not a fast page-turner; instead, the deliberate pacing gives you time to absorb the emotional depth. My feelings shifted from one chapter to the next. At times I felt deep empathy, at other moments I felt uncomfortable, and I frequently questioned LT and her motives.
Because the narrative touches on sensitive subjects, readers who have triggers should do some research before diving in. Ultimately, the plot charts a moving journey of self-doubt that leads to genuine realisation. Amidst the heavy themes, hope remains present. It is a striking balance that kept me thinking long after the final page.
Thankyou Netgalley and Studio LT Press for the advanced reader copy.
5 Excellent read - Loved it. 4 Enjoyable read - Liked It. 3 Average read - Mediocre. 2 Below average read - Mundane. 1 Regrettable read - nearly a DNF
Thanks to Lizzete for the early copy, I appreciate the opportunity to read books before there's a possibility of seeing spoilers and while there are not many reviews. . I wanted to enjoy this book. I went in hoping to enjoy it. The plot is good, consistent, Loren is someone I feel I should be able to relate to heavily and listen to as a fictional peer in the mental health/ late diagnosis struggle. The thing that brought this down from enjoyment to something I have to finish is the consistent description of things by what they are not. She didn't do this. She did this. It wasn't this, it was that. Not this. Not that. A third thing. Don't get me wrong, I love a good literary device, and I know how effective they can be. This was not effective to me. There were several instances where it happened twice in a page. There were instances where the exact same revelation, almost word for word, was repeated a couple pages later. I understand that repeating things to yourself can help you process them. Unfortunately, because of the frequency of the repetition and the constant not X but Y descriptions, the ones that should have held weight felt like "oh, this again" by the time they came up. if I had beta read this book, I would have recommended the author go through and highlight every instance of this to see how frequently she does it, because the frequency lowers the efficacy significantly. . Always on a Tuesday started as something I was excited about. I would be willing to read a second edition if Lizzete chooses to rework it.
As I started Always on a Tuesday I wanted to know what would happen from the very first page, and I ended up finishing this book in just two days.
I could immediately put myself in Loren’s situation, and I absolutely loved how relatable and close to real life the story felt. The writing was easy to follow and refreshing, which made the book so much fun to read. I found myself completely immersed in the story and always wanting to know what would happen next.
I can wholeheartedly recommend Always on a Tuesday. I think everyone can take something personal away from Loren’s story, which made it feel even more meaningful to me. A truly enjoyable and refreshing read! ❤️
A novel written in first person gently invites readers to reflect on their own experiences with mental health, trauma, identity, healing, asking for help. By writing in first person, it was easy to appreciate the overthinking, lived experience, and process experienced by the main character Loren/LT.
The writing is easy to follow, and on a beautiful level mirrors the plot. This novel provides insight to a short time period with profound growth of main character.
To be honest I felt very overwhelmed with Lauren's life myself, and I'd only been on the sidelines for 5 mins, so it's no wonder things got a bit too much. Very enjoyable writing, and a story done well, and in a way that felt relatable. Good read.
Important novel, quiet and profound. The story revolves around a woman who is ultimately diagnosed with mental health condition. It moves gently through the story. Loved the writing. Thank you to the author. Thank you to #netgalley and the publisher for an ARC.
I received this book as an ARC for my book club to discuss. I thought it was a well-written, thoughtful book about finding yourself and figuring out how to cope and understand trauma. I was able to relate to the ways the anxiety was portrayed and liked the way the repetitive nature of the writing displayed Loren's constant overthinking. Overall, it was a well put together book!
Always on a Tuesday is a literary fiction by Lizzete S. Tupas. This debut novel is about Loren, a middle-aged career woman who, on the outside, appears to have it all together. She has a great job. She's had long-term relationships. She has work associates. She helps take care of her aging parents.
However, on the inside? She's falling apart and has been for as long as she can remember. When issues at work, her family, and her social life all collide, the internal noise becomes noticable on the outside, and her actions and reactions make her take a deeper look.
One of the lines in the book that I love is when people tell Loren, "But you look good." So many times, what we have going on inside doesn't show. In fact, many people struggling with issues, mental health concerns, addictions, identity, and more function in society while quietly dying inside.
If you like a book that is very much inside of one woman's head, then this is the book for you.