Susan Meachen: Romance to Die For?

What would it take for you to fake your death? At what point does putting a full stop at the end of your identity become the best way of ensuring your success, even if it hurts those around you?

Susan Meachen found that out the hard way. And perhaps I’m playing into her game by writing this article, by trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it’s a risk I am willing to take.

Context, Written in Blood

Suicide is a rampant issue. You know the tragedy surrounding a suicide, even if you never knew the person. If you’ve followed celebrities, there’s a decent chance you know at least one who has decided to take their own life.

In my case, it was Chester Bennington, and the memory of it is clear in my mind even years later. Towards the end of my very first NaNoWriMo camp event, a YouTube notification from Linkin Park popped up. Talking to Myself had a music video released; I found it and put it on loop on my old computer before I’d finished it the first time.

And then, I left home to go to the youth group I attended at the time.

Out Of Nowhere

I had a wonderful time, we chased the ice cream truck, and I tugged nervously at my shorts each time the breeze hit me. But when I clambered into the car with my parents, my dad looked at me and told me – gently as possible – that Chester Bennington had taken his own life. The same day as Chris Cornell’s 53rd birthday, had he not taken his life two months earlier? My dad was a fan of Chris Cornell, I was a fan of Chester Bennington, and I cried as quietly as I could on the journey back home.

When I turned my computer back on, the video was still open. When I refreshed the newest comments, they had turned from awestruck to agonizing. And, to this day, I can’t listen to the One More Light album without struggling not to cry.

The point here is that suicide is everywhere. And when Susan’s daughter posted an announcement on her mother’s Facebook page stating that her mother had passed away, I felt only a monster would challenge it.

After all, who would lie about such a tragedy?

Deadly Serious

Susan’s last book was a wedding gift for her daughter. A book she had never finished and a book that those around her rallied together to complete in time for the wedding. There were layers upon layers of pain and grief from members of her Facebook group ‘The Ward,’ from close friends and other indie authors. And more importantly, thousands upon thousands of dollars of free services were provided by professionals who empathized with her family. Editing, promotion, and even just the kind words and glowing reviews.

I’ve trawled through Facebook posts to write this article. I’ve uncovered posts where it becomes clear that her ‘death’ in September 2020 was not an isolated incident or her first attempt. But there is something viscerally haunting about going through the postings of a dead woman coming back to life, reading about those previous attempts and her struggles in life.

And then being forced to question them. You always wonder if there were signs that could have helped you prevent suicide, but to be able to ask the deceased that question? That rarely happens.

One aspect of this has lingered in the back of my mind since I first heard about it. Say you were to fake your own death, what then? Where do you go afterward when you have lived a life and left behind a mark – no matter how small – on the world?

Well, to jail if you’re John Darwin. In March 2002, he paddled out to sea in his kayak, only to be reported missing when he failed to attend work. They found his kayak and a paddle, but they never found John.

Lost in the uncharacteristic calm swell of the North Sea.

Cast Adrift

John Darwin’s death certificate was issued, and his wife paid his life insurance. Above all else, life went on. Those who may have seen John were told not to tell anybody and obliged, unwilling to involve themselves in a complex and unusual situation. There is no guide to navigating a situation where your landlord – supposed to be dead – appears alive and well in front of your very eyes.

The fake passport under the assumed name John Jones was ready to go. And John and his wife Anne headed to Cyprus, hoping to buy a property and move to the country. Then, eventually, to Panama.

But a photograph of them at a property viewing with a property agent made its way online. That was the beginning of the end. It took five years for the facade to fall apart, and John knew that his life as John Jones would not fly under the radar as Panama’s visa laws changed. So, as any reasonable person would, he decided to retire the name and become John Darwin all over again.

John returned to the UK and claimed he had amnesia. John was, in my opinion, an absolute idiot.

They say the internet is forever, and never has it been more accurate than in this case. The picture was easily found, and in an instant, John’s life and those around him unraveled.

Let The Fun Begin

I think that Susan Meachen would have been discovered eventually. John Darwin managed to fly under the radar because he ‘passed away’ in an accident; Susan flew under the radar because nobody wants to question suicide. Like John, she adopted a new name, and like John, she remained integrated into her old life. In the digital age, this manifested differently. Then again, if one could get caught out by a picture in 2007, faking your own death in 2020 when everybody was stuck at home during a global pandemic was even riskier.

Short of cutting the internet down entirely, it would inevitably catch up to her

A Little Drama

Writers are theatrical. Whether you’re a fandom hobbyist or a full-time pro, it’s an integral part of succeeding as one. I can’t say I’ve ever heard of an author faking their own suicide. Frankly, this behavior feels like it should take place in a fandom. I saw similar situations many times growing up chronically online. It is easier for a person to die when their identity is a quirky handle and a pseudonym.

But I can’t imagine this being a smart idea when you write as a tangible person with a name and face to worry about.

Perhaps this blurring of the real world, a person’s real identity, with the demand for online drama has made it so tough to find statements for this piece. I’ve reached out to numerous authors in Susan Meachen’s circle – and even the woman of the hour herself – to no avail. I was forced to rely on the words they posted to the public to tell the story of what happened with Susan.

The Bullying Anthology

I’ve been bullied before. Online and offline. After twelve years, I’ve finally felt able to reclaim my name and exist openly online. Still, there’s always that lingering worry in my mind that something else will happen.

Susan alluded to online harassment being one of the most significant contributing factors to her attempts. Other authors were accused of being to blame in her group long before her ruse was revealed. The responsibility to clear the likes of Connie Ortiz – falsely accused of being Susan’s sister – instead rested on the shoulders of authors still reeling from the grief.

To get back to the point, I’ve never looked at the bullying I’ve endured and thought it was romantic. More power to you if you can do that, but it feels tone-deaf to romanticize the reason for your friend’s suicide. Even for a good cause, it felt like another twist to an already baffling story that took a few days to recover.

According to Ika Willis’ article for The Conversation, the book – produced in response to an entirely different bullying situation – was quickly repurposed. The proceeds were sent to an anti-bullying charity.

The desire to keep bullying where it belonged – in fiction – does become somewhat ironic when contextualized by her false suicide.

What Was Best For Susan?

[…] my family did what they thought was best for me, and I can’t fault them for it.
Susan Meachen’s post in her ‘The Ward’ Facebook group

With a history of attempts on her own life, it is easy to look at Susan and see a hurting woman. A woman that, even in that pain, was capable of being compassionate and kind. I could find numerous fundraising efforts on her page where she alluded to hurting her family, and that compelled me. It’s tough not to empathize with her pain. When I reached out to her, I wanted to make it abundantly clear that I was not there for drama. I was there to listen.

This is a situation that will be near-impossible to navigate. Legally or otherwise. There’s a clear right and wrong if you look at it in black and white. There is a part of me that worries about the impact this will have on the lives of Susan and her family. The outrage is entirely reasonable, mind you, but I hope there is support for all involved.

More cynically, I also hope that this doesn’t invalidate others who are struggling. It’s understandable to be suspicious after such an event, but be kind and compassionate above all else.

Can we go back to the old romance author drama now? Pretty please?