Amy Wallace

Smithsonian: Meet the Earthquake Lady

Written by amywallace on January 18th, 2012

Meet Lucy Jones, “the Earthquake Lady”

As part of her plan to prepare Americans for the next “big one,” the seismologist tackles the dangerous phenomenon of denial

By Amy Wallace

Smithsonian magazine, February 2012

One of Lucy Jones’ first memories is of an earthquake. It struck north of Los Angeles, not far from her family home in Ventura, and as the ground lurched, her mother guided 2-year-old Lucy and her older brother and sister into a hallway and shielded them with her body. Add that her great-great-grandparents are buried literally in the San Andreas fault and it’s hard not to think that her fate was preordained.

Today Jones is among the world’s most influential seismologists—and perhaps the most recognizable. Her file cabinets bulge with fan letters, among them at least one marriage proposal. “The Earthquake Lady,” she’s called. A science adviser for the U.S. Geological Survey in Pasadena, Jones, 57, is an expert on foreshocks, having authored or co-authored 90 research papers, including the first to use statistical analysis to predict the likelihood that any given temblor will be followed by a bigger one.That research has been the basis for 11 earthquake advisories issued by the state of California since 1985.

Charged with improving the nation’s response to natural disaster, Jones’ specialty, increasingly, is another complex natural phenomenon: denial, that dangerous unwillingness to acknowledge the inevitable. What good is scientific knowledge, in other words, if people don’t respond to it?

You might have caught her on TV trying to help people understand earthquake risks after Click to continue »

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LA Story: The talented/beautiful Regina King

Written by amywallace on January 16th, 2012

The star of the TNT cop series Southland on tweeting, busing, and Boyz N the Hood

As told to Amy Wallace

Originally appeared in Los Angeles magazine, January 2012

How do I say this? A white person’s upbringing in Los Angeles is different from a black person’s upbringing in Los Angeles. Even if both grew up in affluent neighborhoods, it’s totally different. I grew up in Windsor Hills, which is considered an affluent black neighborhood. My school was 54th Street, which was all black, but I was one of the first round of kids who were bused to make schools more integrated. I was in the fourth grade—maybe ’78 or ’79. I was bused to Click to continue »

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The Story Behind the Story//Shandling edition

Written by amywallace on December 14th, 2011

The writer Paige Williams annotates pieces she admires every Tuesday, inserting her questions and the author’s answers. This week, she aimed her laser focus on my August 2010 profile of Garry Shandling, which ran in GQ. Here’s a link.

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GQ: Matt Damon cover story

Written by amywallace on December 13th, 2011

Wicked Smaht

Is there friggin’ anything Matt Damon can’t do? As the action hero/leading man/activist/Oscar-winning screenwriter/sitcom revelation/Internet meme finally makes the transition to Serious Director, we’re about to find out

by Amy Wallace

Originally published in GQ, January 2012

I’m ducking Matt Damon. We’re supposed to meet at the Central Park Zoo ticket booth precisely at noon, but I’m not there. I’m thirty feet away, standing behind a huge oak tree, keeping watch.

Cameron Crowe, the director, has urged me to try to get a glimpse of the 41-year-old actor when he doesn’t know I’m there. “Matt’s fans relate to him as an older brother or a member of the family. And that’s how he relates to them,” Crowe says, recalling how during the shoot of their new movie, We Bought a Zoo, he liked to do reconnaissance on Damon as he signed autographs and interacted with his public.

The Boston native, who now calls New York home, can be reticent in interviews, reluctant to reveal too much or get too personal. I want to observe him in his natural habitat, and I imagine that my stealth will be rewarded with the kind of unguarded moment that can only be viewed in the wild. As minutes pass, however, and I don’t spot him anywhere, a thought looms: This is Jason Bourne I’m hunting—the master of evasion. What if Matt Damon is ducking me?

Stepping into the open, I sort of wave my notebook like a journalistic homing beacon, and suddenly there he is, all smiles. “Hi, I’m Matt,” he says, extending a hand. He’s in jeans, a gray waffle-y long-sleeve T-shirt, and what look to be brand-new black Puma sneakers. He has a knit cap pulled down to his eyebrows, which makes it easy to notice that his hat and his eyes are exactly the same blue. He’s taller than I thought he’d be and Click to continue »

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LA Story: Laura Dern

Written by amywallace on October 11th, 2011

With the debut of her new HBO series, Enlightened, the actress talks about growing up with actors (her parents are Bruce Dern and Diane Ladd), dying on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and being stuck in 1978

As told to Amy Wallace

Originally appeared in Los Angeles magazine, November 2011

My family’s biggest pet peeve about me is that whenever we get in the car, I tell them that wherever we’re going is 15 minutes away. Because I remember that it used to be 15 minutes away. I’m shocked that it doesn’t take 15 minutes to get from Santa Monica to West Hollywood. Shocked! If I have an appointment in West Hollywood and I’m at Ocean Avenue and Arizona, I leave 15 minutes to get there—knowing full well that crossing the 405 alone is going to take me an hour. As an L.A. native, I refuse to grow up in this one area: traffic. I’m just not going to allow L.A. to be different than it was in 1978. Otherwise I’d have to move.

I was born and spent my early childhood in Santa Monica and the Mar Vista area, so I love it there. And Beverly Hills means a lot to me, too. I lived there for quite a while, and my godmother, the actress Click to continue »

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Slice of Life: Phyllis Diller, at 94, in her own words

Written by amywallace on September 20th, 2011

Yeah, I got my face done. And my nose. And my eyes. And my…

By Phyllis Diller as told to Amy Wallace

Originally appeared in the October 2011 issue of Los Angeles magazine

Why did I get my face done? I’ll tell you why. First of all, I didn’t touch it until I was 55. That’s when I saw myself on television, on the old Sonny & Cher show. I was playing a witch, and I threw my head back and it gave me a couple of chins. I had bags under my eyes. I’d always had irregular features. My nose was too long, and I’d broken it, which made it Click to continue »

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LA Story: Paula Abdul (in her own words)

Written by amywallace on September 17th, 2011

The dancer-choreographer-singer turned judge—who reunites with Simon Cowell this month on Fox’s The X Factor—on Laker Girls, Valley condos, and Gene Kelly

As told to Amy Wallace

Originally appeared in September 2011 issue of Los Angeles magazine

In case you didn’t know, I’m not that tall. I’m five feet two on a good day. Growing up here, I’ve seen a lot. I was never the right height or the right look. I was one of those kids—like on American Idol or The X Factor—who would do anything for Click to continue »

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Longform.org posted my 2002 story about boobs

Written by amywallace on August 30th, 2011

California or Bust

When discussing the body, always go to the top. We’re talking cha-chas, ta-tas, wah-wahs, chihuahuas. L.A. loves ‘em—so we got ourselves some

By Amy Wallace

Originally appeared in Los Angeles magazine, January 2002

LET ME TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED WITH MY BREASTS TODAY. First, I spilled a latte all over them at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. The lid on my cup wasn’t tight, so when I went to take a sip, milk foam poured and then puddled on my sweater. Stooping to wipe up what I presumed would be a mess on the floor, I found that little coffee had gotten past me. For the first time ever, my breasts were too grande for my latte.

Later, I took my breasts out to lunch at the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica, where they promptly attracted the attention of, well, everybody.

Here’s the link to read the rest!

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Longform.org has posted my 2001 profile of Peter Bart. This was my 2009 update

Written by amywallace on August 14th, 2011

The Peter Bart I Knew

Condé Nast Portfolio’s Amy Wallace—writer of a definitive profile of the former Variety editor—looks at what his departure means for Hollywood.

Originally appeared on Portfolio.com April 08, 2009

Eight years ago, I wrote a lengthy profile of Peter Bart, the long-standing and powerful editor of the entertainment trade paper Variety, for Los Angeles Magazine. In it, I quoted the movie producer and former studio chief Peter Guber saying something that bears repeating today, as Bart’s reign ends.

“Peter is riding in the general’s car—Variety is the general’s car. And you salute the general’s car even when the general’s not in it,” Guber said of his friend Bart. “I say to him, ‘Never let go of this job, because the wolves will attack. People are kept at bay by your power.’”

On Sunday, Variety’s owners, Reed Business Information, quietly announced that Bart, 76, would no longer be riding in the general’s car. Effective immediately, he is being replaced by his No. 2, Timothy M. Gray. But here’s what occurred to me as I read that news: The end of Bart’s tenure says more about the 104-year-old vehicle he piloted for two decades than it does about him.

Bart’s influence was greatest in an age when Click to continue »

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GQ’s Comedy Issue: Jerry Lewis at 85

Written by amywallace on August 12th, 2011

Jerry-atrics!

He’s the original lord of lowbrow, the king of the pratfall, the last surviving link to the bedrock of American comedy—vaudeville, burlesque, slapstick. Sure, he’s ancient, but he’s juggling half a dozen new projects and still found time to sit down with Amy Wallace for an eleven-hour interview. Call it the Jerry Lewis Marathon that covered, well, just about everything that’s ever been funny

Originally appeared in GQ, August 2011

Jerry Lewis sits behind his huge desk, neatening the items that stand like sentries between us: a can of Diet Sunkist; a container of silver pens, tips up; a container of red pens, same position; a handful of green plastic surgical scalpels he uses to open mail, a dish of lemon drops. When you’ve been on the planet for almost nine decades, like Lewis has, and when you can’t throw anything out (“I’ve kept everything!”), and when you’re slightly nuts (“Did you ever see a man who can look at one eye with the other?”), you require order. At 85, Lewis employs three full-time people to help him stay organized. He loves them fiercely—and drives them bonkers.

“Have you done anything today? Why not?” Lewis likes to bellow, his voice—three parts affection, one part curmudgeon—thundering through Jerry Lewis Films, a sprawling suite in an office park about four miles from the Las Vegas strip. He looks good—a little stooped, sure, but still sharp-eyed and quick-tongued and up-tempo, his red silk shirt unbuttoned low enough to reveal the scar from his double-bypass surgery twenty-nine years ago. On his feet are red velvet slippers embroidered with those iconic faces of Comedy and Tragedy. “Can I get another orange soda?” he asks, and when it arrives twenty seconds later: “What took you so long?”

Suddenly, Lewis’s face goes blank and his hazel eyes get big as quarters. Slamming his chair back—boom!—he reaches for a trash can under his desk and Click to continue »

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