The only bit of original text in Rob Kovitz's diverting According to Plan is a last-page mission statement about his imprint, Treyf Books. The objective of that publishing project is described there as making "unusual books of an indeterminate type, sort of story-picture remix books for people who can't stomach any more schmaltzy Chicken Soup for the Soul." If we are to take that title, volume one of the enormously popular self-help series, as a stand-in for all things that limit creative possibility through oversimplification, overdetermination, and, yes, schmaltz, then Kovitz is serving up a proper antidote: books that mean absolutely nothing until you make meaning out of them yourself.

Like Treyf's other books, According to Plan is a compilation, a collection, a farrago of found objects. Reading it is like holding in your hands a discrete piece of that great, galling, joyous abyss we're used to falling into via our search boxes-in this case, a search for writing (and associated images) that contains the loaded word "plan."