Erin is John O´Brien´s sister...  And John was the writer of Leaving Las Vegas, a great book about inconditional love in the direst of circumstances. John was inmensely talented and tortured, and his character Ben Sanderson is such an achivement, a study in honesty and dignity. His sister is a writer too, and here´s an article about her. She sounds as intense as her brother, but in a very different way of her own:

Every black sheep should have a sister like Erin O'Brien.

Writer John O'Brien, Erin's big brother and her only sibling, grabbed worldwide fame only after his death. After years of professional misfires and personal struggles with alcoholism, John O'Brien committed suicide in 1994, just weeks after selling his novel, "Leaving Las Vegas," to Hollywood. His tale of a self-loathing, alcoholic writer bent on self-destruction became the 1995 film starring Nicolas Cage, who won an Oscar for his role.

"That story was the fantasy version of John's exit," says Erin, from her Broadview Heights home. "The man who goes to Vegas and fades away in his sleep with a beautiful woman at his side? John's death was nothing like that."

John's death at age 33 and his literary legacy are now very much in his sister's hands. It was primarily through her efforts that "Better," John's final work, was published by Akashic Books last month. She has been a tireless supporter and defender of her brother's novels writing the afterword to the Italian edition of "Leaving Las Vegas," traveling to Los Angeles for readings of John's work, even landing a piece in the Los Angeles Times about the new book.

"I think John is an important voice in American literature," she says firmly.

But Erin is a talented writer herself, with a fearlessly distinctive voice, one that, perhaps, has been overshadowed as she tends to her brother's legacy.

Clevelanders may know Erin through "Rainy Day Woman," her audacious, salacious and funny column that runs biweekly in Scene magazine. She's free-lanced for other local publications, including The Plain Dealer; self-published a novel of letters called "Harvey and Eck"; and has been trying to find a publisher for a book of humorous essays titled "The Irish Hungarian Guide to the Domestic Arts."

She describes the tone of her pieces as "David Sedaris in an apron."

"I call it a celebration of life in mid-America," she says. "I like to write about the cultural implications of the food processor. Tiny things are important to me."

Humor comes naturally to Erin, 44, who also compares herself to a gonzo version of Erma Bombeck. A former electrical engineer turned working-class writer, she shares her home with husband, Eric Nowjack, and their 12-year-old daughter, Jess.

"I have no illusions. I'm a 40-something housewife from the suburbs," she says. "Broadview Heights is like Parma without the glitz. I call this house a 1967 'Brady Bunch' split level. I set the bar for my marriage here after 15 years, we still do it with the lights on."

Sex is a frequent subject in Erin's work. Her first "Rainy Day" column in 2006 focused on "Beautiful Agony," an erotic Web site where people submit videos of themselves (from the shoulders up) while they experience, well, beautiful agony.

"I remember thinking this may be the shortest-lived column ever," says Scene editor Frank Lewis with a laugh.

"She's really versatile," Lewis continues. "There was another piece about a dive bar that was full of color and texture and mood. You could almost hear the bar chatter and smell the cigarette smoke. No matter the topic, she works hard to reveal the details and the truths. She makes it worth your time to read."

Erin's saucy banter on her provocative blog, "Erin O'Brien's Owner's Manual for Human Beings" (erin-obrien.blogspot.com), and deadly quips on her personal videos rock a room with laughter. They stand in stark contrast to the darkness and deadpan bitterness her brother brings to bear in "Better."

Final novel is author's metaphor

Written in 1990, four years before John's death, the novel centers on a group of men and women living debauched lives inside a Malibu, Calif., mansion owned by a man named Double Felix. A pivotal prostitute in the story is called Zipper. The protagonist is William, which was also the name of the O'Briens' late father.

" 'Better' is his metaphoric chronicle of his genetic wiring and how it condemned him to that profound alcoholism," says Erin about her brother. "After years of studying his body of work, I believe John was certainly at odds with his genetic identity, both in the scientific realm of genomes and alleles, as well as the more traditional 'family' sense, but I wouldn't be so quick to say that he blamed Dad or any of his lineage for it. It's not that simple."

During a reading in the basement of Mac's Backs bookstore in Cleveland Heights, Erin describes how the novel came alive for her, 15 years after she first read it.

She says the story is a metaphor for her brother's alcohol addiction Double Felix and Zipper represent John's DNA, a molecular predisposition toward alcoholism. Perhaps a genetic legacy of their hard-drinking father?

"It was like that scene in a scary movie when the characters learn that the call from the killer came from within the house," says Erin. "John was trying to say that the cause of his death was born inside of him. He could not divorce himself from the monster in the house: his alcoholism."

Erin is still puzzled by her talented and seemingly doomed sibling, even as she works to keep his work in the spotlight.

"Everything with John is a study in the starkest of contrast," she says. "The blood in his veins made him a brilliant artist as well as a devastating alcoholic."

Also like her brother, Erin has writing in her blood.

"Erin is extremely passionate about writing and about taking chances. She's fascinated by subcultures but crows about her very normal life as a housewife and mother living in the suburbs," says Amy Sparks, a local writer and critic who has known Erin for more than 10 years.

Despite her efforts toward establishing a literary career separate from her brother's, Erin has been unable to get an agent to represent her work, much less find a publisher.

"An agent told me I wasn't famous enough to get a book of essays published," she says.

Meanwhile, it seems there is always something more to do about the books of her late, famous brother readings and forwards, and a steady stream of letters from his fans.

Erin says she doesn't mind. She continues to write for Scene magazine and to provoke readers. She keeps trying to find a publisher for her book. She feels her brother is there for her, if only in memory.

"He's a pillar of support because I know how he struggled to get published," she says. "He always said be true to yourself. So I feel like he's an angel on my shoulder, whispering in my ear.

"I'll be unraveling his work for years in order to better understand why he ended it all in a single moment."

To reach this Plain Dealer reporter: mheaton@plaind.com, 216-999-4569

MARVIN FONG THE PLAIN DEALER Devoted sister Erin O'Brien looks after her late brother John's literary legacy while forging a writing career of her own.; COURTESY OF ERIN O'BRIEN John, Erin and their father, Bill, celebrate Erin's 16th birthday in 1981. Both kids attended Lakewood High School.; COURTESY OF ERIN O'BRIEN John O'Brien strikes a pose as a struggling Los Angeles writer. He took his own life in 1994, just weeks after learning that his novel, "Leaving Las Vegas," was going to be made into a movie.; COURTESY OF ERIN O'BRIEN Erin O'Brien's cherished first edition copy of her late brother John's most popular novel. "Better", his last work of fiction was published last summer.