I visited the library earlier today, fully determined to check out the Singapore collection. Faced with the fiction shelf of Singapore literature, this one bright blue spine popped out, so I took it from the shelf. Turns out it was My Singapore Lover. While I didn’t really know what it was about, I had seen copies of that book on display at bookstores. I thus started to read the book. 20 pages in, I already wanted to chuck it aside. Nothing really grabbed me but I didn’t want to make snap judgements. Plus, My Singapore Lover was published fairly recently, which I figured fits in squarely with Crazy Rich Asians, another book set in Singapore that was published last year. (I have yet to read it.)