Mr. Complain, a dour, pink-skinned gentleman sporting a green suit and hat, is traveling by animal-populated train to his vacation destination; the only human aboard, he's not a happy camper. The bright pink train is too loud, his seat is too lumpy, and he's tickled by a passel of pig passengers. "Don't worry!" the amiable ostrich conductor tells Mr. Complain, but the journey gets goofier and goofier: as callouts in the boisterous, mixed-media illustrations urge the reader to tilt the book this way and that, the train goes up a bridge, through a diamond mine, past a volcano, and into the ocean. His fellow passengers gleefully slip and slide and fly through the air, but when the conductor announces that the final leg of this crazy ride involves a loop-de-loop, it seems all but certain that Mr. Complain is going to blow his stack. Instead, he exclaims "YA-HOOOOOOO!" and decides to remain on the train rather than get off at the grim-looking Dullsville. Bradford (There's a Dinosaur on the 13th Floor) and Britt (Over in the Hollow) make the idea of "rolling with it" vivid and endearingly silly--who knew that building resilience could be such a good time? Ages 4--7. Agent (for Bradford and Britt): Abigail Samoun, Red Fox Literary. (Feb.)

Interactive tomfoolery reaches new heights (and the occasional depth) when a perpetual crank's mood meets its match. Mr. Complain lives up to his name. Clad in a Tyrolean hat and an oversized ascot, the mustachioed, elderly White gent boards a train in the hope of reaching a vacation destination. Alas, at all times he is beset with problems that only he seems to detect. The train compartment he initially sits in is "too happy," but outside is "too sad." His animal seatmates are "too bubbly," "too prickly," and "too piggly." The dining car offers some respite, until it starts tilting about--thanks to instructions given specifically to the book's readers, who are encouraged again and again to wreak extra havoc on the ride. Though Mr. Complain cannot open his mouth without moaning, a relentlessly chipper ostrich conductor meets every last one of the cranky guest's peeves with reassurance. Surely any adult or child who has ever experienced a flood of nonstop negativity will instantly recognize the Mr. Complains in their own lives. Britt's thickly inked figures and Beccia's digital colors bring the train and its chaotic passengers to life; Mr. Complain is particularly amusing, with a neckless, egg-shaped head rising out of a body ending in two tiny feet. It will be hard for child audiences to complain when seeing this story in action. Mr. Complain is the only human in the book. Aim this train for the nearest storytime and choo-choo-choose it anytime. (Picture book. 3-6) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.