My Many Projects

An update on all the projects I have thrown myself into through the years.

I’m notorious for starting projects that, sadly, never go anywhere or never get finished. I’ve started MANY projects throughout the last 5 years. Wanted to give an official update on what is to come.

My Scotty Beckett Biopic:

About 3 years ago I started to delve into the life of actor Scotty Beckett. This is one of my great challenges.

Scotty led a life of ultimate mystery and the more I dug into his past, the more questions I had. I’ve interviewed his family, co stars, and friends and nearly every one of them told me that he was a no good man and that a book should not be in the works. Some things are better left in the dark. Leave Scotty’s story alone.

Due to lack of information (medical files, institutions privacy, etc.) I found that writing a book on his life was taking a toll on me. Just no one (who knew him) wanted to talk about him.

This project was put on the back burner.

I have the intention of releasing all of the interviews and information I received in the future. May be in a documentary or in a book. We will just have to wait and see. When the moment is right, I’ll release it.

Scotty’s life and death definitely is a heavy topic.

The Jack Pickford Story:

My main man: Jack Pickford. SO many ideas. I have all the information I need to write a full length biography on his life and death – it’s just a matter of time before it gets pieced together.

Lucille Ricksen / Memoir:

My memoir and past life story as Lucille Ricksen is written and finished! Just matter of editing and publishing and such. Hoping for a release within the next few years.

Other projects I’m in the midst of creating:

I’m constantly creating and coming up with ideas for future projects. Some of the main topics lately; a documentary about Minnesota cold cases, writing about the life of actor Justin Pierce, and many more.

I take on way to many projects but it’s what I enjoy doing.

And on top of all that, I was delayed for a few months; moving to California and pursuing other career options.

The Sunset

One of Sydney Chaplin’s greatest fears as told in perspective of Lucille Ricksen.

Yet another rejected and very early draft of my novel, Human Wreckage.


We would talk about everything and anything. One of the topics being Syd’s terrifying fear of dying.
That was something that never bothered me. I certainly didn’t want to die young, but I was never scared of death. At times, it seemed wonderful. Just a long, heavy deep sleep. Many times during my career I dreamt of the sleep of the dead.
His fear of dying kept him from living. As he got older, he would settle in his chair and watch the light fade from his garden. Maybe he knew that’s how we experience death. Or at least how I experienced death.
A light coming from one side and slowly closing you out of the earth. Death is no sudden black. Maybe Sydney was onto something–death comes just like the sunset. Slowly, colors will fade and your vision will turn white then to black. The sky never changes colors in a mere second. It will gradually change. You simply don’t realize what is happening, until after it has happened.
Just like falling asleep. You don’t remember the exact second you are dreaming, but you are. Death, for me, was a beautiful moment in history. Despite the circumstances, it was beautiful.
Once the sun finally settled, Syd would sit and cry alone in his chair. Most people who are fortunate enough to even watch the sun fall feel calm and peaceful. He found it morbid. The sun going down only proved to him that time truly does go by and that he has lost yet another day of living. The older he got and the more days he lost, the more depressed he became.

He hated anything that had to do with death. I like to think that’s the reason why he never paid me visits while I was dying. Imagine my disappointment when he never showed at my bedside.

The Falling

My apologies for not posting in so long–it’s been a busy past few months.

Here is a passage I wrote for my upcoming book, “Human Wreckage” about my life as Lucille Ricksen. I will not be using this chapter–I wrote this about a year ago and have since changed the way I’ll be writing my book thus making this chapter useless. Thought I’d share it since it is very personal to me & I feel it’s beneficial to those who are searching for the truth of some things.

This has not been edited much and is a very rough cut of my writing–there will be errors but should still be an interesting read.

This is all in the point of view of Lucille Ricksen.

Hope you enjoy.


The Falling

“I’ve never known anyone so full of joy”
Lois would sob as news of my death became public. Other co stars would say,
“She was a sweet natured girl who gave happiness to everyone she met”
Newspapers published that I had died from a broken heart–a victim of the worlds cruelty. In reality, I was a victim of Hollywood.
I was laid to rest the day before Sydney’s [Sydney Chaplin] birthday, March 15th.
Jack and Mary Pickford, the Chaplin brothers, Lois and others decorated my coffin with beautiful flowers. Many celebrities attended; it seemed only like a Hollywood gathering. A big party. Definitely not an event where they laid a little girl to rest.
There were also some anonymous grievers surrounding the venue of the tightley woven famous crowd. Those who wanted to send their wishes and respect.
Like I had wished in the last weeks of my life, I was cremated. My mothers ashes were mixed among mine and we were interred in Forest Lawn Memorial Park. I was one of the earliest stars to be locked in the stone shelf.
Many stars will join me in the years to come.

Grief wrapped its arms around Paul Bern so heavily that he decided to leave Hollywood for two weeks – the first vacation he had ever taken from work. He chose to travel to Arizona.

Unfortunately, I was not the only leading lady Paul had to watch pass from destruction, I was only the first. In 1926, he helped struggling beauty, Barbara La Marr, who was suffering from drug and alcohol abuse. Just like he had with me, he paid for her nurses and any other bills that she had. And like me, she was diagnosed with tuberculosis along with nephritis.
He gave Barbara one last script, one last chance to say goodbye to the screen. The Girl From Montmartre is the name, which she completed but never lived to see. Barbara passed away January 30th, 1926 at the age of 29, just before the film was due for release.
In 1930, Paul supported his good friend Mabel Normand, when she was dying of tuberculosis. Just like he had with Barbara and I, he sat with Mabel, held her hand and gently spoke kind words with her.
He had a special power to calm before the eyes of death. He held life and death in his hands. Though he certainly would not intentionally cause death among us ladies; it was as if with his touch, we knew we could make it to the other side – the light, safely. The afterlife. We arrived in perfect harmony with spirits, to the afterlife, because of him.
The same delicate hands of his that guided us held a gun up to his own head and shot away the life left inside of him. He had just married his first wife, the glamourous blonde bombshell, Jean Harlow, only two months before. He was 42 years old.
I still and will continue to miss him. Every girl he graced with his presence remains deeply touched. Despite what some may speak of him, he was an angel to the falling ladies of Hollywood.

Special Announcement

Hello everyone!

I’ve been working/editing my novel the past few days. Tying loose ends and completing stories. Still not finished with the entire book but coming close — I can’t wait to share my story!

I’d like to thank all of the wonderful people who have been supporting me during this time of my life. It took a lot of guts and bravery on my part to come out and disclose memories that are painful to me and hearing from people who were inspired by my story made it worth it. It truly means a lot to me. Over the course of the past few months, I’ve received some hateful comments. People telling me I’m going to hell, that I am damaging the name of certain celebrities — Lucille Ricksen — I’ve gotten hate emails about Jack Pickford, and even some remarks that I am whoring myself to the public.

I am not a fame monster. I would never dishonor Lucille’s memory just to get my name on television — and I don’t think that I have dishonored her. My main goal was to educate and share the struggles of her life. Through the years, she’s been painted as only a victim and simply a name. Nothing more. I wanted everyone to know that Lucille’s life was much more than that. She was happy, bright, and was loved many. There’s tragedy in everyone’s life. Lucille had tragedy but it wasn’t her entire life. Just the last few months. She was a human being, we all have our faults.

Lucille Ricksen
Lucille Ricksen

All of that being said, I’ve received way more positive reviews than negative. The positive, to me, out weighs the negative. I do not regret a single thing I have done.

In other exciting news, I’m working on a special project that will include everyone who has been so kind to me. I have many documents and pieces of Lucille’s life that I want to share with all the wonderful people who support not only my life, but Lucille’s as well.

I’ll be sending — through the mail — handwritten notes, fragments of my book, pictures, and much more. The subject of what I send will most likely change as my writing is still in process. It will be a special piece of my life shared with the ones who have been kind to me through this journey of my life.

To anyone who is interested in participating in this project, please email me at:

Thanks again!!X0

– Amy

The Photo Album

I love all pictures of anyone who was associated with Lucille. Weekly I am going to try to share my favorite pics!!

Here’s some to start off.

Pictured is Conrad Nagel and his daughter Ruth, Jack and Mary Pickford, Paul Bern and Jean Harlow, Robert Agnew and Lucille.

Conrad and his daughter Ruth.
Conrad and his daughter Ruth.
Jack  Pickford with his sister Mary.
Jack Pickford with his sister Mary.
Paul Bern and Jean Harlow
Paul with his first wife Jean Harlow.


Lucille in her final film role, The Denial (1925)
Lucille in her final film role, The Denial (1925)


Until next post, Best wishes! – AmyXo

Story/Excerpt From My Book

I am working on a book about my life as Lucille Ricksen. I am writing it as a memoir. It will contain memories I have and the events that molded and shaped my life and untimely death.

I am almost fully completed with the first draft and I could not be more happy with the result! It’s not perfect but I am happy with the work I have done so far.

I’m going to share some of the stories that I remember. This is not what will be written in the book, they are just fragments of memories as they come to me. I’m working now on filling in the pieces for my book. There will be a ton of mistakes so please don’t be to harsh.

This story consists of Jack & Mary Pickford on set of the film The Hill Billy, and stories that Syd Chaplin had told me. It’s a short, sad story. But it is one that I remember well.

Hope you enjoy!!


One thing I remember specifically about Jack — he loved Coca Cola. I would see him walk around set with the glass bottle, sipping it down like it was his last drink. Knowing him, he probably spiked it with liquor.
Mary would often visit the set. All I can say about Mary is that she was stunning. Her golden hair bounced at her shoulders and her smile was darling. She is very small. She was wearing a white, casual lace gown with a sun hat when I first saw her. Mary is simply as cute as a button.
I would always observe Mary and Jack very closely from afar. Jack is only a few inches, if that, taller than Mary. She has such confidence about her; you know that she knows she is powerful. Jack, however, exceeds almost little to no confidence at all. Especially when he’s by Mary.
The more I worked with Jack, the more I felt sorry for him.
He often got himself into a lot of trouble, which explains why Mary and his mother would check up on him on set. I never saw the “bad” or “evil” side of Jack, and my guess is that almost none of his other co stars did.
He drank a lot. But only in his own privacy. Sometimes, if he drank enough, he would call out for a girl who had been dead for 4 years:
He would call out for her into the lonesome night, with only his echoes returning back to him.
Syd had told me stories of Jack. Painful stories that Mary had apparently blabbed to Charlie, among other people.
Stories of how Olive would plead to Jack,
“Don’t let me die! I don’t want to die!” She would beg him.
Olive died in his arms and he had been living with her voices in his head ever since.
He drank to silence the voices.


*Olive is Jack’s first wife who was poisoned on their second honeymoon in Paris of 1920. He was 24 years old when this happened.