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The River Days of Rosie Crow
Two women's lives interweave in the wilds of rural Norfolk, separated by almost two hundred years but bound by their inability to conform to society's expectations and love of storytelling.
Rosie Crow is spirited, illiterate and deeply connected to the land. She believes the river communicates with her, but rural poverty and superstition set her up as scapegoat for her village's discontent. What Rosie cannot know is the impact her life will have on a grief-stricken woman many years later...
Rosie Crow is spirited, illiterate and deeply connected to the land. She believes the river communicates with her, but rural poverty and superstition set her up as scapegoat for her village's discontent. What Rosie cannot know is the impact her life will have on a grief-stricken woman many years later...
258 pages, Paperback
Published March 30, 2026
8 people want to read
About the author
Rebecca Stonehill
6 books58 followersRebecca Stonehill is an author living in Norwich with her husband and three children. She spends her time working on her prose and poetry and runs Magic Pencil, an initiative to give children greater access to creative writing and poetry. Rebecca has had numerous short stories published over the years, for example in Vintage Script, What the Dickens magazine, Ariadne's Thread and Prole Books but The Poet's Wife (Bookouture) is her first full-length novel, set in Granada during the Spanish Civil war and Franco's dictatorship. Her second novel, The Girl and the Sunbird, was published by Bookouture in June 2016. Her third novel, The Secret Life of Alfred Nightingale, is set in Crete in WW2 and the 1960's. Rebecca's fourth book came out in 2022 - The Sky Within - A Memoir of Sleep. Her first published non-fiction, this won the Backlash Press prize for non-fiction and charts her journey over many years with chronic insomnia.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
April 20, 2026
This is an original and thoughtful novel.
Rebecca Stonehill’s The River Days of Rosie Crow is set in 19th-century rural Norfolk, in a village 10 miles or so from Norwich. Rosie is the only child of a widower; her mother has died when she is three. Her father is a weaver. She’s a misfit from the beginning, finding it hard to relate to other children and spending time by or in the nearby River Mermaid, which she believes tells her stories; she wants to write these down, but is illiterate. And she finds the rural community’s intolerance visited on her in a way that will nearly kill her.
Meanwhile the book has periodic breaks that tell the story of a modern young woman called Rose, who has taken refuge in Norfolk after a personal crisis; she catches sight of Rosie Crow’s name in her host’s family tree and her curiosity is piqued. The book is her story too. However, The River Days of Rosie Crow is first and foremost about 19th-century Rosie – the story of a young woman who is a misfit in her village, and of what becomes of her as a result.
But Stonehill also paints a picture of the rural England of the time. We learn that Rosie was 11 at the time of George IV’s coronation, which was in 1821 – so we’re in the 1820s and 1830s, the time of change and dislocation in rural England that is reflected in the life and writings of the poet John Clare. The long process of the Enclosures and the rural depopulation it drove was reaching its climax. It wasn’t new; the Acts of Enclosure had been going on for 200 years and the process, in practice, for much longer, since the Black Death. But the arrival of agricultural machinery sped up the movement from the countryside, as did the replacement of the weaving trade by industrial textiles. All this is reflected in the book. Yet it’s done with a very light touch; in the end this book is about Rosie, and it’s a story evocative of its time without being a history lesson – it’s fascinating yet doesn’t feel didactic. A lesser writer might have tripped up here.
Stonehill includes one character who was very real. She has Rosie encounter the well-known writer and abolitionist Amelia Opie (1769-1853), who was indeed from Norwich and is buried there. I am not sure what Stonehill’s purpose was here but it may have been to tie the story to real changes happening at the time – Rosie, as an illiterate rural girl, is not expected to write or to have agency in her society but increasingly women do, and Opie’s own friends included Mary Wollstonecraft and Madame de Staël. Again, Stonehill will certainly know details like this but wisely doesn’t overload the story with them; we see the encounter very much as Rosie might have done, and it rings true.
I wondered a bit about the modern Rose. She’s an urban professional who has had a bad breakup and comes to Norfolk to recover. This subplot really revolves around her friendship with her elderly host. I wasn’t sure how much this added to Rosie’s own story. But it was a gentle way of telling us that the River Mermaid is still there (it flows into the Bure), and so is the parish of Marsham where Rosie once struggled to live her life her own way, and where Rose must do so now.
The River Days of Rosie Crow isn’t Stonehill’s first book – I think it’s actually the fifth – and I suspect the others are also worth checking out. Certainly this one’s a bit unusual, and conveys a lot about the time in which it’s set without ever feeling like a history lesson. Worth a read.
Rebecca Stonehill’s The River Days of Rosie Crow is set in 19th-century rural Norfolk, in a village 10 miles or so from Norwich. Rosie is the only child of a widower; her mother has died when she is three. Her father is a weaver. She’s a misfit from the beginning, finding it hard to relate to other children and spending time by or in the nearby River Mermaid, which she believes tells her stories; she wants to write these down, but is illiterate. And she finds the rural community’s intolerance visited on her in a way that will nearly kill her.
Meanwhile the book has periodic breaks that tell the story of a modern young woman called Rose, who has taken refuge in Norfolk after a personal crisis; she catches sight of Rosie Crow’s name in her host’s family tree and her curiosity is piqued. The book is her story too. However, The River Days of Rosie Crow is first and foremost about 19th-century Rosie – the story of a young woman who is a misfit in her village, and of what becomes of her as a result.
But Stonehill also paints a picture of the rural England of the time. We learn that Rosie was 11 at the time of George IV’s coronation, which was in 1821 – so we’re in the 1820s and 1830s, the time of change and dislocation in rural England that is reflected in the life and writings of the poet John Clare. The long process of the Enclosures and the rural depopulation it drove was reaching its climax. It wasn’t new; the Acts of Enclosure had been going on for 200 years and the process, in practice, for much longer, since the Black Death. But the arrival of agricultural machinery sped up the movement from the countryside, as did the replacement of the weaving trade by industrial textiles. All this is reflected in the book. Yet it’s done with a very light touch; in the end this book is about Rosie, and it’s a story evocative of its time without being a history lesson – it’s fascinating yet doesn’t feel didactic. A lesser writer might have tripped up here.
Stonehill includes one character who was very real. She has Rosie encounter the well-known writer and abolitionist Amelia Opie (1769-1853), who was indeed from Norwich and is buried there. I am not sure what Stonehill’s purpose was here but it may have been to tie the story to real changes happening at the time – Rosie, as an illiterate rural girl, is not expected to write or to have agency in her society but increasingly women do, and Opie’s own friends included Mary Wollstonecraft and Madame de Staël. Again, Stonehill will certainly know details like this but wisely doesn’t overload the story with them; we see the encounter very much as Rosie might have done, and it rings true.
I wondered a bit about the modern Rose. She’s an urban professional who has had a bad breakup and comes to Norfolk to recover. This subplot really revolves around her friendship with her elderly host. I wasn’t sure how much this added to Rosie’s own story. But it was a gentle way of telling us that the River Mermaid is still there (it flows into the Bure), and so is the parish of Marsham where Rosie once struggled to live her life her own way, and where Rose must do so now.
The River Days of Rosie Crow isn’t Stonehill’s first book – I think it’s actually the fifth – and I suspect the others are also worth checking out. Certainly this one’s a bit unusual, and conveys a lot about the time in which it’s set without ever feeling like a history lesson. Worth a read.
April 11, 2026
I often struggle with dual timeline historical novels finding I much prefer the one set in the past to that set in the present day; the latter even sometimes feeling like an add-on. No such fears here because I thought the ratio between the two was perfectly judged with Rosie’s story, set in the 1820s, taking up the majority of the book and the connections between the two storylines feeling meaningful and unforced.
Rosie and her father live in poverty, her father scraping a living from weaving cloth on a hand loom. It’s backbreaking work and a dying trade due to increasing mechanisation. Rosie can scarcely remember her mother who died when she was young. Instead it was Old Clara, a woman skilled in herbal remedies, who brought Rosie up and who understands her unique connection with the natural world, in particular the River Mermaid. It’s where Rosie spends much of her time, listening to the stories the river tells her that in turn inspire her own stories. But this, along with her stature and striking features, mark her out as different. And Old Clara knows what it’s like to be viewed with suspicion because you don’t conform. As she explains to Rosie, ‘Folks are scared of different. People that en’t the same as them.’ Rural life is becoming harder as a result of the enclosure of common land by farmers. No wonder that people look to find scapegoats for their woes giving rise to a shocking event that will mark Rosie for the rest of her life.
Not everyone views Rosie with suspicion or fear. In Caleb, a young blacksmith, Rosie finds a steadfast and loyal friend. He’s someone with whom she can share her stories and who accepts her for who she is. I found their relationship moving but also heartbreaking.
Equally moving is the companionship that develops between Rose and her best friend’s great uncle George, a still sprightly eighty-six-year-old who, we discover, has experienced his own share of personal tragedy. George gently encourages Rose to unpack the trauma of a relationship breakdown that has left her feeling rootless and with a low sense of self-worth.
Stories and storytelling are themes that permeate the book. There’s a wonderful scene in which Rosie is given a glimpse of the power of books to enthrall. It fuels her own passion for reading. And what a revelation it is to discover there is such a thing as an ‘authoress’, legitimising in a way her own compulsion to create and share stories.
The book has many delightful touches such as each chapter heading being the name of a wildflower, reflecting their use in one of Old Clara’s herbal remedies or evoking a memory of a life event. And there are many clever elements to the progression of the two storylines. For example, Rosie’s story moves from rural Norfolk to the hustle and bustle of London whilst Rose’s moves in the exact opposite direction. The companionship of animals becomes important to both women – Rosie with her cat Jup and Rose with George’s dog Max. For Rosie writing stories is a compulsion but it’s only the idea of telling her story that reawakens Rose’s interest in writing. Oh, and there’s a brilliant literary ‘Easter egg’ towards the end of the book.
The River Days of Rosie Crow is an enchanting novel about storytelling and the healing properties of the natural world.
Rosie and her father live in poverty, her father scraping a living from weaving cloth on a hand loom. It’s backbreaking work and a dying trade due to increasing mechanisation. Rosie can scarcely remember her mother who died when she was young. Instead it was Old Clara, a woman skilled in herbal remedies, who brought Rosie up and who understands her unique connection with the natural world, in particular the River Mermaid. It’s where Rosie spends much of her time, listening to the stories the river tells her that in turn inspire her own stories. But this, along with her stature and striking features, mark her out as different. And Old Clara knows what it’s like to be viewed with suspicion because you don’t conform. As she explains to Rosie, ‘Folks are scared of different. People that en’t the same as them.’ Rural life is becoming harder as a result of the enclosure of common land by farmers. No wonder that people look to find scapegoats for their woes giving rise to a shocking event that will mark Rosie for the rest of her life.
Not everyone views Rosie with suspicion or fear. In Caleb, a young blacksmith, Rosie finds a steadfast and loyal friend. He’s someone with whom she can share her stories and who accepts her for who she is. I found their relationship moving but also heartbreaking.
Equally moving is the companionship that develops between Rose and her best friend’s great uncle George, a still sprightly eighty-six-year-old who, we discover, has experienced his own share of personal tragedy. George gently encourages Rose to unpack the trauma of a relationship breakdown that has left her feeling rootless and with a low sense of self-worth.
Stories and storytelling are themes that permeate the book. There’s a wonderful scene in which Rosie is given a glimpse of the power of books to enthrall. It fuels her own passion for reading. And what a revelation it is to discover there is such a thing as an ‘authoress’, legitimising in a way her own compulsion to create and share stories.
The book has many delightful touches such as each chapter heading being the name of a wildflower, reflecting their use in one of Old Clara’s herbal remedies or evoking a memory of a life event. And there are many clever elements to the progression of the two storylines. For example, Rosie’s story moves from rural Norfolk to the hustle and bustle of London whilst Rose’s moves in the exact opposite direction. The companionship of animals becomes important to both women – Rosie with her cat Jup and Rose with George’s dog Max. For Rosie writing stories is a compulsion but it’s only the idea of telling her story that reawakens Rose’s interest in writing. Oh, and there’s a brilliant literary ‘Easter egg’ towards the end of the book.
The River Days of Rosie Crow is an enchanting novel about storytelling and the healing properties of the natural world.
March 31, 2026
I read your book in a single day today. I haven’t done that for a while. I loved it. It made me cry multiple times. It made me feel. It reminded me how grateful I am for the love in my life and the beauty and the fragility of it all. It reminded me of the parts of me that care so deeply about injustice. About those that are different. It made me think about wisdom. It made me remember how wonderful I feel resting in an ice cold stream in a woodland on a hot summers day. It made me appreciate the sky this evening. It made me feel so grateful to have my partners love, as strong as Caleb’s, and that I have the capacity to return it. It made me feel fuller and lighter and more like myself.
- posted on behalf of a friend who isn’t on goodreads
- posted on behalf of a friend who isn’t on goodreads
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews