SAL FLINT

A Although not much of a user of Facebook and not at all really on Instagram or TikTok, being part of the older generation who learned Facebook, overused it, and has now more or less abandoned social media, I still found myself occasionally scrolling through the reels of Jess and Norma. I can’t remember if I pointed them out to my daughter Betsy, or if she showed them to me, but either way there is no denying they are a delight to watch.

Jess and Norma’s videos are full of lighthearted pranks, warmth, love, and connection between generations, exactly the sort of thing that floats my boat. What made them so appealing was that it all felt real but gentle. Not everything was shared, and you could see it was moderated with Norma’s family in mind. We are given insights into the life of Caden the grandson, “Mafia Kate” the daughter, and others, but it is never intrusive. As I watched the reels I imagined that Norma felt like everyone’s online grandma or mum, while Jessica, the funny young one, was the lively content creator who viewers would welcome as a sister, daughter, or friend. For me, the connection was even stronger because they enjoyed visiting Gainsborough Market Place, a familiar spot that made their content feel local and personal.

Jess and Norma began documenting their lives together in 2022, and what started as lighthearted content quickly grew into something much more, drawing in millions of viewers and creating a sense of shared family for people across the world. That is why hearing of Norma’s passing, so soon after Jessica’s dad’s, was such a shock. You almost wanted to reach out as if to a friend.

Despite enjoying the reels of Jess and Norma, if I am honest, I had not planned to buy Jess and Norma. My mum always said of celebrity autobiographies that appear just before Christmas, “Might as well wait until January, Sal, when they will be a pound in the charity shop.” I felt the same, worth a skim perhaps, but not worth paying for. Shows what I know, as I have just learned that Jess and Norma has become a Sunday Times bestseller. I discovered that on social media of course, the two worlds intertwining. Luckily, Bets treated herself to a copy, she has more cash than me these days, so I was more than happy to read hers. With so much on social media, and in the world, that is not uplifting, it was refreshing to enjoy both their reels and their book.

Jess and Norma feels like you are sitting in their front room with them. Much of it is presented as a conversation between granddaughter and grandmother, a gentle sharing of their past and private lives. They reveal more than they do in their short online clips, moving beyond the humour and lightheartedness we all know them for. We get glimpses of who they are in the reels, but they are quite firmly planted in the present. In the book we learn more about Norma, who was born in Nottinghamshire in 1934 and worked as a telephonist in her younger years. Her down to earth humour and warmth clearly stayed with her throughout her life. We also discover the route to Jessica graduating from Hallam University in 2020 with a degree in social work. That training and natural empathy seem to shine through in her role as both Norma’s carer and as the creative heart of their online presence.

We learn about Norma’s childhood, her attitudes, her love of home, and how Jess came to be her carer. There is a more intimate look at Norma’s deteriorating health and the gradual reduction in video making, something not always apparent from the reels alone. We also glimpse that things have not always been entirely smooth at home for Jess. The book is curated, moderated, and modest, but if you read between the lines you notice moments of challenge. I respect that it is not a kiss and tell account but remains true to their authentic style.

I am curious to know what the initial intent was in writing and publishing Jess and Norma. Obviously, it will make money, quite a lot I imagine, and I would not be surprised if a book tour is on the horizon. Yet I think it is more than that, it feels like Jess’s gift to Norma. Jess’s devotion shines through, and it is clear the love goes both ways. The story seems to shift from simply sharing laughs to also delivering messages for its readers. Jess quietly champions the value of therapy, eating and sleeping well, self care, and the importance of looking after ourselves. She allows herself to be vulnerable, and that vulnerability creates warmth and connection, which readers will appreciate, and it gives the book value and depth.

Jess and Norma is also enriched by a lovely photo section that really brings the family to life. What stands out most to me is the way it captures cross generational understanding and connectedness. Jess includes moments where she tries to teach Norma modern slang, such as “Menty B” or “Slay.” Norma’s baffled but witty responses are hilarious, and these exchanges feel like the essence of the story rather than just a detail. They show the joy and humour that can come when generations meet in the middle, each teaching the other in their own way. There are also stories about Norma’s friends with their nicknames, Norma was affectionately called “Barrel” while her friend was “Matchstick,” as well as recaps of the pranks played on Norma by Jess, visits to Coronation Street and Emmerdale as they became better known, and of course some of the reasons behind Norma’s legendary eye rolls. All of this, combined with the homespun wisdom and down to earth values presented simply and without pretension, makes it a book worth lingering over. I found it took me longer to read than I had expected, as each page felt worth savouring.

The letters Jess and Norma wrote to each other at the end are particularly moving, and they are especially poignant given Norma’s recent passing. It was lovely to see Mafia Kate’s letter in there too and to read of Norma’s devotion to her. If I were to offer any constructive criticism, it would be that because the book is framed as a conversation but clearly intended for a wide readership, there are points where the dialogue feels a little more explanatory than it would in everyday life. One could argue that these sections might have been separated into more straightforward narrative, but it is not particularly distracting, and it is easy to understand why the choice was made.

For me, Jess and Norma brought together two of my favourite things, the joy of social media at its best and my love of books. This made it a real hit. Having finished reading the autobiography, it is hard to separate it from life as it is so current and rooted in the here and now. Consequently, I am left slightly worried about Jess, as I bet there will be some unkind media backlash at some point or kiss and tell stories in the future, but hopefully Jess will have the resilience to manage them. She seems to have her head screwed on quite well. I do hope she gives herself the time to grieve though, avoids being swept up too much in the media whirlwind, lets Jake play his golf, and perhaps stops treating the dog quite so much like a human. Good luck to her in all of her future content creating and literary endeavours.