Minnesota writer Dennis E. Staples drew on casino work for new horror novel

A creepy song on a car radio led directly to Dennis E. Staples' second novel, “Passing Through a Prairie Country.” He was driving from MSP airport to his then-home in Bemidji, Minn.

“By the time I hit 20 or 40 miles out of Bemidji, it was dusk and I didn’t at the time have an advanced car so it was just whatever would come in on the radio station. One station was playing old big band hits. One of these orchestra hits started playing, with kind of a marching band beat and this creepy chorus of voices,” recalled the Ojibwe novelist, who grew up near Leech Lake and now lives outside Duluth.

The song by Mitch Miller — Staples prefers not to reveal the title because it could spoil some “Passing” surprises — was so atmospheric that it got him thinking. His mind turned to Alfred Hitchcock, kidnapped children and other elements that inform his new novel, in which hero Marion is gay and Native, just like Staples. (Marion also appeared in his debut, “This Town Sleeps.”)

That creepy song also reminded Staples of a macabre joke from his time working at a casino on a reservation.

“An employee on the floor said about the security guards, ‘Did you hear what they’re calling the keno section?‘ The other guy said no and the guard said, ’Noddingham, with two d’s instead of t’s,” Staples said. “It was a reference to, back then, a lot of people were heavily sedated on recovery drugs or other substances. And a lot of people were nodding off at machines.

In the first few months of the COVID-19 pandemic, those ideas began to shape themselves into “Passing Through a Prairie Country,” which draws on several stints Staples, 32, has worked at casinos, including the former Palace Casino Hotel in Cass Lake. Working casino jobs, Staples said, you come across a lot of dark stuff that is a boon for a writer of horror fiction. He knew he’d be using it for material at least as far back as undergraduate creative writing courses at his alma mater, Bemidji State University.

“I remember tackling creative nonfiction and writing about nickels. The point of it was basically we move so many pounds of coins, it’s extremely monotonous. So I was half asleep most of the time there, this very sleepy, dreamy monotony,” said Staples.

That wooziness pervades “Passing Through a Prairie Country,” in which Marion escapes the clutches of a malevolent figure known as the Sandman and — with help from cousins Alana and Cherie — is drawn into a battle between good and evil, partially fought between slot machines and blackjack tables.

It could be argued the supernatural element of “Passing” is a representation of the tensions within most casinos. Staples saw people gambling away government assistance checks that could have been used to feed their families, but that’s not the only casino story. He also recalls one serving as a lifeline after a huge storm rolled through northern Minnesota in 2012.

“A lot of people’s electricity and water were out for days. The casino was OK, though. They opened up the bingo hall as a shelter and the locker room for a community shower,” recalled Staples. “The casino, it’s big and 24/7 and there’s a hotel and a staff prepared for emergencies and medical staff. It’s a community center, at the same time as it’s a temple-of-sin sort of place.

Queerness is less of a factor for Marion in “Passing” than it was in “This Town Sleeps,” partly because he’s so busy battling demons that he doesn’t have much time for romance. But another character (best not to reveal which one) grapples with psychological demons that are all too familiar to Staples, who has known he was gay since he was about 10.

“There was a lot of typical bullying, typical tension with a machismo culture, a lot of sports and stuff. It was really easy for all the kids to be homophobic. I felt some of that from pretty early on. Fourth grade is the first time I remember teachers saying that other kids had to stop piling on,” said Staples. “As far as adults, it’s hard to put this in a way that doesn’t sound quite negative but let’s say that sometimes Native uncles don’t have great senses of boundaries.”

His family has always been supportive of his writing, though, as has his community. At the Institute of American Indian Arts in Sante Fe, N.M., Staples made connections with other writers, including Sherman Alexie, Terese Mailhot and Tommy Orange, working to do his part to fulfill the program’s motto: “Rewriting the literary landscape.”

It’s somewhat ironic that Staples is doing that in the horror genre since he can recall being so freaked out by the ship sinking in “Titanic” that he had to hide behind his family’s couch. The horror developed almost without him realizing it in “Passing Through a Prairie Country,” but Staples said the plan is to make a shift in his next novel:

“This time, I think I might go for something a little less bleak.”

Passing Through a Prairie Country

By: Dennis E. Staples.

Publisher: Counterpoint, 247 pages, $27.

Events: 7 p.m. April 3, Content Bookstore, 314 Division St. S., Northfield; 7 p.m. April 8, Birchbark Bizhiw, 1629 Hennepin Av. S., #275, Mpls.