Kilos

I think that's a solid approach. As you well know, the whole point is to (succinctly) say "Hey, I'm convinced that this program/school/department is really good at XXX; furthermore, I'm convinced that some of the faculty in this program/school/department are particularly good at/interested in XXX niche/subfield/area of interest and I would love to work with them; additionally, I'm really good at/interested in/engaged in XXX--here's how I can prove that I know what I'm talking about." None of this requires any name-dropping. Then again, as I said above, if you've already talked to a POI/contact within the department and they've implied that they're interested in working with you, I don't think you can go wrong finding a way to fold them in.
As far as tips on things to mention, I always hesitate to say too much because I'm no expert, and one of my biggest fears is to give anybody bad advice. That said, I'm happy to give examples as long as you promise to take everything I say as the anecdotal ramblings of somebody who is just as confused about the process as anybody.
Disclaimer out of the way: What I did was a buttload of research. I know you're asking for specific examples, and I'll get to that, but I think I have to emphasize that you won't know what to mention unless you've really done your homework. I started at a very high level, eliminating places I knew I wouldn't want to live (very important), then eliminating schools that didn't guarantee full funding, then eliminating schools that didn't have opportunities for summer funding, fellowships, and conference funding. I'll admit that as much as I hate generic "rankings" of schools and departments, they probably played a role in my filtering (especially the National Research Council rankings, and placement rankings). Then I started getting way more picky. I eliminated schools that didn't have at least a few active faculty members whose bodies of work aligned with my intended research path (this took a lot of time and a lot of digging through CVs, and then a lot of digging through published works listed on said CVs--I feel like I did more reading for this than I did for my thesis or my last seminar paper). Then, once I had a list of about 25 schools that I felt fit me, I went and asked some people I trusted; I asked mentors, advisors, people who knew my interests and could recommend landing places that would fit well (I didn't share my list until after they'd given me their unbiased recommendations, and then I asked if they liked any on my list, or had any reason to remove any others). Then we discussed where our lists crossed paths, and I added a few that I'd missed.
At that point I was down to about ten schools, and I started scouring the internet, the library, and even message boards like this one. I reached out to a few people at different schools (some reached back, some didn't), and I tried to make contact with current and former graduate students in the programs I liked. I tried to keep it short and sweet, and I got more than a few wonderfully detailed responses. I asked these people what they valued about the program, what they were looking when they entered, how that was working out, and what they'd discovered (both pleasant and not so) once they'd arrived. I compared these responses with what I'd uncovered through my own research and tried to build a picture of the program as best I could without ever setting foot there (which was as hard as it sounds, and could be completely off-base even now). Then, under the gun of looming deadlines, I eliminated a few more for random reasons (some just didn't feel like they were me, some didn't feel like they were in a location that my wife would feel comfortable, and others I just didn't get a good vibe about). Eventually, I was down to a handful of schools. One was local (convenience), one was the best program in the country (or at least it was in my mind, though the fit wasn't perfect), and the other one felt like it was made for me (this one rose to the top of my list while I was researching, and the rhet/comp faculty seemed open-minded, eager to expand the scope of their program, fully engaged, and the graduate students seemed happy, not overworked, and excited--they also talked about how they felt fully supported). Here's where I'll get into specifics, because I noticed how my SoPs diverged from this point.
The local school was pretty much guaranteed. It was my alma mater, I knew the faculty, and I guess it's what some might call a "safety" school. I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't spend a lot of time on this SoP (basically a pared down version of my other ones) with almost no tailoring to fit, but I still got accepted with full funding and a T.A. position. I mentioned that I was familiar with the faculty and the program. I guess this could, possibly, be interpreted as evidence that perhaps proving fit isn't as important as establishing qualification or merit.
The other two were more difficult. As I wrote the SoP to the really prestigious school, I found myself contorting my own thoughts (as well as interpretations of my past work) to try and make myself sound more appealing--it felt like I was changing who I was and what I was interested in in order to fit in better. Maybe they could tell. Maybe the fake veneer is what sunk my chances. I really wanted to attend this school, but the further I got into the SoP the more I felt that I didn't really belong. They had a few faculty members that would have been a dream to work with and whose work aligned with mine (which is why the program made it so far up on my list), but it didn't really feel like they had a huge rhet/comp contingent, and despite their great resources I was afraid I'd feel like an outsider in a top-shelf literature program.
As I wrote the SoP for my top choice school, the exact opposite happened. I felt that I could just gush about who I was, what I was passionate about, how all of my past work aligned perfectly, how I knew I fit right in, and it all just made sense. I talked about these things in particular: this school is a strong research university with well-established and burgeoning schools/departments across dozens of disciplines (numerous sciences, linguistics, psychology, etc.), and the English department is known for having wonderful, productive relationships with many of them; the rhet/comp side of this department is run by a group of really gung-ho faculty who have a wealth of experience with the rhetoric of science, the interdisciplinary facets of composition, writing across disciplines, and (to a lesser extent) ecocriticism, which is the exact kind of environment I was looking for; these same rhet/comp faculty run a stellar FYW (first-year-writing) program with a 24 student cap on each section, and a 1-1 course load for the TAs (which really gives the TAs a chance to work one-on-one with students rather than lecture and pray); they also have a spread of courses that the TAs can begin teaching as they develop professionally, including literature and rhetoric courses, some of which the TAs have a great deal of control over. I've rambled too much already, and I could add some more detail, but I feel like I probably shouldn't re-write my whole SoP here. Essentially, I did what I could to briefly index what I loved about the program, why I loved it, why I knew this would be a unique, stimulating, resource-rich environment for me as an individual--and, most importantly, I made sure to turn all of this back around and relate it to my past work and future goals. All said, this probably amounted to 1/4th of my SoP. Another 1/4 was sign-on and sign-off, and the 1/2 remaining was diving into my proposed research topics and intended trajectory.
What I'm getting at, while trying to answer your questions, is that you when you stumble across these things while researching potential schools, they will jump out at you. You'll think "holy crap, that's great, that's just what I'm looking for." When you have those moments, jot them down and try to remember why you felt so energized about it at that very moment. Put that energy and excitement into your SoP, and remember to do it without sounding like a crazed idiot. There's an important line between positive, focused energy and unhinged, aimless vomitus (trust me, I know, I'm a rambler, as is evidenced here). 
Also, you asked about classes: Often times you can go on a department's website and they'll have the courses/seminars posted for the next year. All of the schools I applied to had this--one of them I was able to request. They usually say "subject to change," but this, paired with a list of past offerings, can give you a really good idea of what to expect from a department. Often times there will be great 1-2 paragraph descriptions of the seminar. Just feel it out!
Finally, I think you're right when you say that you can't really get a good feel for the ethos of a program until you're actually in it. This sucks. It makes applying really hard. Then again, you don't know what that entree is going to taste like until you order it and eat it--you just have to do your best to figure out what it might be like by browsing some online reviews, looking at a recipe, reading the menu, looking around at the other diners' plates, asking the wait staff, and glancing into the kitchen. Research will get you as close to the finish line as anything else.

I think that's a solid approach. As you well know, the whole point is to (succinctly) say "Hey, I'm convinced that this program/school/department is really good at XXX; furthermore, I'm convinced that some of the faculty in this program/school/department are particularly good at/interested in XXX niche/subfield/area of interest and I would love to work with them; additionally, I'm really good at/interested in/engaged in XXX--here's how I can prove that I know what I'm talking about." None of this requires any name-dropping. Then again, as I said above, if you've already talked to a POI/contact within the department and they've implied that they're interested in working with you, I don't think you can go wrong finding a way to fold them in.
As far as tips on things to mention, I always hesitate to say too much because I'm no expert, and one of my biggest fears is to give anybody bad advice. That said, I'm happy to give examples as long as you promise to take everything I say as the anecdotal ramblings of somebody who is just as confused about the process as anybody.
Disclaimer out of the way: What I did was a buttload of research. I know you're asking for specific examples, and I'll get to that, but I think I have to emphasize that you won't know what to mention unless you've really done your homework. I started at a very high level, eliminating places I knew I wouldn't want to live (very important), then eliminating schools that didn't guarantee full funding, then eliminating schools that didn't have opportunities for summer funding, fellowships, and conference funding. I'll admit that as much as I hate generic "rankings" of schools and departments, they probably played a role in my filtering (especially the National Research Council rankings, and placement rankings). Then I started getting way more picky. I eliminated schools that didn't have at least a few active faculty members whose bodies of work aligned with my intended research path (this took a lot of time and a lot of digging through CVs, and then a lot of digging through published works listed on said CVs--I feel like I did more reading for this than I did for my thesis or my last seminar paper). Then, once I had a list of about 25 schools that I felt fit me, I went and asked some people I trusted; I asked mentors, advisors, people who knew my interests and could recommend landing places that would fit well (I didn't share my list until after they'd given me their unbiased recommendations, and then I asked if they liked any on my list, or had any reason to remove any others). Then we discussed where our lists crossed paths, and I added a few that I'd missed.
At that point I was down to about ten schools, and I started scouring the internet, the library, and even message boards like this one. I reached out to a few people at different schools (some reached back, some didn't), and I tried to make contact with current and former graduate students in the programs I liked. I tried to keep it short and sweet, and I got more than a few wonderfully detailed responses. I asked these people what they valued about the program, what they were looking when they entered, how that was working out, and what they'd discovered (both pleasant and not so) once they'd arrived. I compared these responses with what I'd uncovered through my own research and tried to build a picture of the program as best I could without ever setting foot there (which was as hard as it sounds, and could be completely off-base even now). Then, under the gun of looming deadlines, I eliminated a few more for random reasons (some just didn't feel like they were me, some didn't feel like they were in a location that my wife would feel comfortable, and others I just didn't get a good vibe about). Eventually, I was down to a handful of schools. One was local (convenience), one was the best program in the country (or at least it was in my mind, though the fit wasn't perfect), and the other one felt like it was made for me (this one rose to the top of my list while I was researching, and the rhet/comp faculty seemed open-minded, eager to expand the scope of their program, fully engaged, and the graduate students seemed happy, not overworked, and excited--they also talked about how they felt fully supported). Here's where I'll get into specifics, because I noticed how my SoPs diverged from this point.
The local school was pretty much guaranteed. It was my alma mater, I knew the faculty, and I guess it's what some might call a "safety" school. I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't spend a lot of time on this SoP (basically a pared down version of my other ones) with almost no tailoring to fit, but I still got accepted with full funding and a T.A. position. I mentioned that I was familiar with the faculty and the program. I guess this could, possibly, be interpreted as evidence that perhaps proving fit isn't as important as establishing qualification or merit.
The other two were more difficult. As I wrote the SoP to the really prestigious school, I found myself contorting my own thoughts (as well as interpretations of my past work) to try and make myself sound more appealing--it felt like I was changing who I was and what I was interested in in order to fit in better. Maybe they could tell. Maybe the fake veneer is what sunk my chances. I really wanted to attend this school, but the further I got into the SoP the more I felt that I didn't really belong. They had a few faculty members that would have been a dream to work with and whose work aligned with mine (which is why the program made it so far up on my list), but it didn't really feel like they had a huge rhet/comp contingent, and despite their great resources I was afraid I'd feel like an outsider in a top-shelf literature program.
As I wrote the SoP for my top choice school, the exact opposite happened. I felt that I could just gush about who I was, what I was passionate about, how all of my past work aligned perfectly, how I knew I fit right in, and it all just made sense. I talked about these things in particular: this school is a strong research university with well-established and burgeoning schools/departments across dozens of disciplines (numerous sciences, linguistics, psychology, etc.), and the English department is known for having wonderful, productive relationships with many of them; the rhet/comp side of this department is run by a group of really gung-ho faculty who have a wealth of experience with the rhetoric of science, the interdisciplinary facets of composition, writing across disciplines, and (to a lesser extent) ecocriticism, which is the exact kind of environment I was looking for; these same rhet/comp faculty run a stellar FYW (first-year-writing) program with a 24 student cap on each section, and a 1-1 course load for the TAs (which really gives the TAs a chance to work one-on-one with students rather than lecture and pray); they also have a spread of courses that the TAs can begin teaching as they develop professionally, including literature and rhetoric courses, some of which the TAs have a great deal of control over. I've rambled too much already, and I could add some more detail, but I feel like I probably shouldn't re-write my whole SoP here. Essentially, I did what I could to briefly index what I loved about the program, why I loved it, why I knew this would be a unique, stimulating, resource-rich environment for me as an individual--and, most importantly, I made sure to turn all of this back around and relate it to my past work and future goals. All said, this probably amounted to 1/4th of my SoP. Another 1/4 was sign-on and sign-off, and the 1/2 remaining was diving into my proposed research topics and intended trajectory.
What I'm getting at, while trying to answer your questions, is that you when you stumble across these things while researching potential schools, they will jump out at you. You'll think "holy crap, that's great, that's just what I'm looking for." When you have those moments, jot them down and try to remember why you felt so energized about it at that very moment. Put that energy and excitement into your SoP, and remember to do it without sounding like a crazed idiot. There's an important line between positive, focused energy and unhinged, aimless vomitus (trust me, I know, I'm a rambler, as is evidenced here). 
Also, you asked about classes: Often times you can go on a department's website and they'll have the courses/seminars posted for the next year. All of the schools I applied to had this--one of them I was able to request. They usually say "subject to change," but this, paired with a list of past offerings, can give you a really good idea of what to expect from a department. Often times there will be great 1-2 paragraph descriptions of the seminar. Just feel it out!
Finally, I think you're right when you say that you can't really get a good feel for the ethos of a program until you're actually in it. This sucks. It makes applying really hard. Then again, you don't know what that entree is going to taste like until you order it and eat it--you just have to do your best to figure out what it might be like by browsing some online reviews, looking at a recipe, reading the menu, looking around at the other diners' plates, asking the wait staff, and glancing into the kitchen. Research will get you as close to the finish line as anything else.

+1 for good info!
And, although I think the University of Oregon is a bit lower at around top 50~ish in the rankings, they don't guarantee first year funding either. It's a weird situation where they don't give classroom teaching appointments to PhD students straight out of a B.A. program if they don't have college teaching experience... and then, because you can't teach the first year, you have to compete for a "limited number" of "non-classroom" graduate teaching fellowships (essentially working as a writing tutor). This was why I ended up not applying though it was one of my top-choice programs. I couldn't risk moving across the country for a spot in a program that had a possibly unfunded first year. Too risky.
I think most people would be really surprised if they knew just how many of these patchwork funding situations exist out there. Also, keep in mind that a lot of these stipends are so low that you simply can't live off of them. I grew up near Eugene, Oregon (where the UofO is), and I guarantee that you can't live in Eugene on the stipend they offer (12k for 0.40 FTE). Guarantee. So you're gonna have to work a significant number of hours on the side. I'd posit that this same situation exists across the country. I wouldn't call a program "fully funded" if you can't eke out a living on the stipend. That's just my opinion.

Hey @Kilos, I never thanked you for your response because life got ahead of me but I have been ruminating on it ever since I read it and I actually re-vamped my research/spreadsheet-ing approach to be a little more similar to what you did. Thank you so much for writing all of this out! You and everyone in this community will be the reason I get into a PhD program, if that happens...
A weird thought -- I think that sometimes seeing how much thought everyone here put into ensuring a program was the right fit for them and would provide them with more than enough support has almost... intimidated me? And I find myself wanting to write off certain things like, for example, eliminating programs that don't guarantee summer funding or even something like making sure current graduate students are happy there, because I don't feel like I'm allowed to be that picky. Like I'm kind of telling myself I'll be lucky to get in and I should take what I can get. But I know on some level that something I need to work on over this year of research is convincing myself that I'm a candidate that departments should want at their program, and it should be equally if not moreso about convincing departments of this and ensuring I'm at the right program rather than begging to get in wherever they'll take me.
I also wonder, though, if it might not be possible for me to find "perfect" programs because I'm very picky with location and because my fields/interests aren't super prevalent areas. It's already looking like I won't be able to put together a list of 10-20 programs that are in places where I'd want to live, guarantee funding, guarantee other kinds of support, and have 3 or so faculty members in my general areas. I suppose location is the first thing that should go but I find myself thinking things like "I don't need to eliminate programs that don't guarantee funding/conference funding etc because I might still be offered funding." But what if I only get into those programs and I'm not offered funding? Realistically I'd just take the loss and apply again the next year and I really want to avoid having to do that. So I'm not sure whether those are worth the application or not.

Word of caution here: Most programs don't guarantee summer funding. You'd be heavily restricting a lot of great choices if you do this. Of the 4 offers I received, only one had guaranteed (unofficial) summer funding.  I do, however, think it's important to research stipends and see how if it can sustain you. Sustaining means different things depending on if you're okay with roommates, have pets, etc. Look into rent prices carefully. Do the same with food prices + utility costs. Think about how close you want to be to campus or if driving to campus is okay to you. Consider the additional parking passes and gas prices.
 
If a program doesn't guarantee funding, it isn't a program I'd apply to. Places that don't offer funding usually have no teaching or research experiences required. Without those experiences, the job market is going to be nearly impossible to succeed in.
 
I disagree here. Location is important. If you're unhappy with the location, you're going to be heavily unmotivated to produce your best work. I would think of location as more generalized though: Would you feel happy working somewhere secluded? Or do you need to the city? Would you be okay with living in a college-town where it'll most likely be a ghost town during the summer? 

I think @FreakyFoucault sticks the landing on a number of thoughtfully argued points. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own perspective and experience that the broader picture begins to blur around the edges. I suppose what I should have said is that in my personal situation, it would have been absurd for me to apply to 10-15 different schools. Though the PhD has always been my end goal, I determined that there were only a few schools/programs that I'd have been willing to drop everything, quit a lucrative career, sell a house, and drag my wife/neurotic cat states away to attend. While it wasn't at all feasible for me, personally, to broadly apply to the large number of schools that I felt drawn to, I'm guessing that most people applying to graduate school are in a much more flexible, fluid situation where the chief objective may not be to find the absolute perfect fit, necessarily, but rather to find one of a number of solid fits. In this case, since we're all kinda shooting in the dark, subject to the whims and wills of admissions committees and what sometimes feels like dumb luck, perhaps the high-volume approach is best. If the desired result is an acceptance above all else, you can only increase your chances by applying to more schools. My only caveat would be that if you plan to apply to a huge number of schools (which, I cede, may be the best course of action), you should be especially mindful of the fact that you're choosing an approach that may, after weeks/months of application fatigue, devolve into adopting a "quantity over quality" mentality; accordingly, you should fight to make sure that doesn't end up showing through in your applications.

I think that's a solid approach. As you well know, the whole point is to (succinctly) say "Hey, I'm convinced that this program/school/department is really good at XXX; furthermore, I'm convinced that some of the faculty in this program/school/department are particularly good at/interested in XXX niche/subfield/area of interest and I would love to work with them; additionally, I'm really good at/interested in/engaged in XXX--here's how I can prove that I know what I'm talking about." None of this requires any name-dropping. Then again, as I said above, if you've already talked to a POI/contact within the department and they've implied that they're interested in working with you, I don't think you can go wrong finding a way to fold them in.
As far as tips on things to mention, I always hesitate to say too much because I'm no expert, and one of my biggest fears is to give anybody bad advice. That said, I'm happy to give examples as long as you promise to take everything I say as the anecdotal ramblings of somebody who is just as confused about the process as anybody.
Disclaimer out of the way: What I did was a buttload of research. I know you're asking for specific examples, and I'll get to that, but I think I have to emphasize that you won't know what to mention unless you've really done your homework. I started at a very high level, eliminating places I knew I wouldn't want to live (very important), then eliminating schools that didn't guarantee full funding, then eliminating schools that didn't have opportunities for summer funding, fellowships, and conference funding. I'll admit that as much as I hate generic "rankings" of schools and departments, they probably played a role in my filtering (especially the National Research Council rankings, and placement rankings). Then I started getting way more picky. I eliminated schools that didn't have at least a few active faculty members whose bodies of work aligned with my intended research path (this took a lot of time and a lot of digging through CVs, and then a lot of digging through published works listed on said CVs--I feel like I did more reading for this than I did for my thesis or my last seminar paper). Then, once I had a list of about 25 schools that I felt fit me, I went and asked some people I trusted; I asked mentors, advisors, people who knew my interests and could recommend landing places that would fit well (I didn't share my list until after they'd given me their unbiased recommendations, and then I asked if they liked any on my list, or had any reason to remove any others). Then we discussed where our lists crossed paths, and I added a few that I'd missed.
At that point I was down to about ten schools, and I started scouring the internet, the library, and even message boards like this one. I reached out to a few people at different schools (some reached back, some didn't), and I tried to make contact with current and former graduate students in the programs I liked. I tried to keep it short and sweet, and I got more than a few wonderfully detailed responses. I asked these people what they valued about the program, what they were looking when they entered, how that was working out, and what they'd discovered (both pleasant and not so) once they'd arrived. I compared these responses with what I'd uncovered through my own research and tried to build a picture of the program as best I could without ever setting foot there (which was as hard as it sounds, and could be completely off-base even now). Then, under the gun of looming deadlines, I eliminated a few more for random reasons (some just didn't feel like they were me, some didn't feel like they were in a location that my wife would feel comfortable, and others I just didn't get a good vibe about). Eventually, I was down to a handful of schools. One was local (convenience), one was the best program in the country (or at least it was in my mind, though the fit wasn't perfect), and the other one felt like it was made for me (this one rose to the top of my list while I was researching, and the rhet/comp faculty seemed open-minded, eager to expand the scope of their program, fully engaged, and the graduate students seemed happy, not overworked, and excited--they also talked about how they felt fully supported). Here's where I'll get into specifics, because I noticed how my SoPs diverged from this point.
The local school was pretty much guaranteed. It was my alma mater, I knew the faculty, and I guess it's what some might call a "safety" school. I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't spend a lot of time on this SoP (basically a pared down version of my other ones) with almost no tailoring to fit, but I still got accepted with full funding and a T.A. position. I mentioned that I was familiar with the faculty and the program. I guess this could, possibly, be interpreted as evidence that perhaps proving fit isn't as important as establishing qualification or merit.
The other two were more difficult. As I wrote the SoP to the really prestigious school, I found myself contorting my own thoughts (as well as interpretations of my past work) to try and make myself sound more appealing--it felt like I was changing who I was and what I was interested in in order to fit in better. Maybe they could tell. Maybe the fake veneer is what sunk my chances. I really wanted to attend this school, but the further I got into the SoP the more I felt that I didn't really belong. They had a few faculty members that would have been a dream to work with and whose work aligned with mine (which is why the program made it so far up on my list), but it didn't really feel like they had a huge rhet/comp contingent, and despite their great resources I was afraid I'd feel like an outsider in a top-shelf literature program.
As I wrote the SoP for my top choice school, the exact opposite happened. I felt that I could just gush about who I was, what I was passionate about, how all of my past work aligned perfectly, how I knew I fit right in, and it all just made sense. I talked about these things in particular: this school is a strong research university with well-established and burgeoning schools/departments across dozens of disciplines (numerous sciences, linguistics, psychology, etc.), and the English department is known for having wonderful, productive relationships with many of them; the rhet/comp side of this department is run by a group of really gung-ho faculty who have a wealth of experience with the rhetoric of science, the interdisciplinary facets of composition, writing across disciplines, and (to a lesser extent) ecocriticism, which is the exact kind of environment I was looking for; these same rhet/comp faculty run a stellar FYW (first-year-writing) program with a 24 student cap on each section, and a 1-1 course load for the TAs (which really gives the TAs a chance to work one-on-one with students rather than lecture and pray); they also have a spread of courses that the TAs can begin teaching as they develop professionally, including literature and rhetoric courses, some of which the TAs have a great deal of control over. I've rambled too much already, and I could add some more detail, but I feel like I probably shouldn't re-write my whole SoP here. Essentially, I did what I could to briefly index what I loved about the program, why I loved it, why I knew this would be a unique, stimulating, resource-rich environment for me as an individual--and, most importantly, I made sure to turn all of this back around and relate it to my past work and future goals. All said, this probably amounted to 1/4th of my SoP. Another 1/4 was sign-on and sign-off, and the 1/2 remaining was diving into my proposed research topics and intended trajectory.
What I'm getting at, while trying to answer your questions, is that you when you stumble across these things while researching potential schools, they will jump out at you. You'll think "holy crap, that's great, that's just what I'm looking for." When you have those moments, jot them down and try to remember why you felt so energized about it at that very moment. Put that energy and excitement into your SoP, and remember to do it without sounding like a crazed idiot. There's an important line between positive, focused energy and unhinged, aimless vomitus (trust me, I know, I'm a rambler, as is evidenced here). 
Also, you asked about classes: Often times you can go on a department's website and they'll have the courses/seminars posted for the next year. All of the schools I applied to had this--one of them I was able to request. They usually say "subject to change," but this, paired with a list of past offerings, can give you a really good idea of what to expect from a department. Often times there will be great 1-2 paragraph descriptions of the seminar. Just feel it out!
Finally, I think you're right when you say that you can't really get a good feel for the ethos of a program until you're actually in it. This sucks. It makes applying really hard. Then again, you don't know what that entree is going to taste like until you order it and eat it--you just have to do your best to figure out what it might be like by browsing some online reviews, looking at a recipe, reading the menu, looking around at the other diners' plates, asking the wait staff, and glancing into the kitchen. Research will get you as close to the finish line as anything else.

I completely agree with both of the above sentiments. All of our suggestions here bear a tacit YMMV caveat. If OP determines in their cost-benefit analysis that applying to five programs makes the most sense, then five is the magic number! Alternatively, if they want to hedge their bets and apply to 15, then 15 is the magic number! Here's the catch: I was initially hesitant to remark that "you're accepted to 0% of the programs to which you don't apply" because such a trivialism ignores the significant opportunity cost (time and money) involved in adding more schools to the list. I was lucky enough to be able to pay the $2300 it took to get myself into grad school. In an alternate universe, however, I might've applied only to the 3 universities that accepted me and saved a bunch of money doing so. If that had been the case, I'd likely be the proud owner of a preowned Honda Rebel 300 -- I'd be unstoppable!!! But, on the other hand, I also might've applied only to the 13 schools that ended up rejecting me, which would've cost a lot and left me with nothing. Both situations are possible, the former certainly so: @Kilos, and many others here, have succeeded despite (or, perhaps, because of) applying to only a handful of programs. Nonetheless, others here apply to many and receive only a few acceptances ... or none. It's a numbers game, but with research and good luck you can do well for yourself without breaking the bank. 
Kilos is also right to mention application fatigue. Because I got a job after graduating, I was able to prepare my applications deliberately over the course of a year and a half. I did a little grad-school work here and there (sometimes at my office) with ample breaks and largely avoided burning out. Unfortunately, not all applicants have time on their side. If you do, however, I'd start researching and writing (and getting the tests out of the way) as soon as possible. Avoid procrastinating, though, because time truly does evaporate after you leave school. You have to be vigilant to avoid the fate of Samuel Johnson's Idler: 
“[Mr. Sober] draws oils and waters [from his chemical furnace], and essences and spirits, which he knows to be of no use; sits and counts the drops as they come from his retort, and forgets that, whilst a drop is falling, a moment flies away.”
Just be mindful of your options, OP. Hindsight, for those of us who are starting programs in 2018, is 20-20. Foresight, of course, isn't. Do what makes sense for you. The right course will become evident in time. 

I think @FreakyFoucault sticks the landing on a number of thoughtfully argued points. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own perspective and experience that the broader picture begins to blur around the edges. I suppose what I should have said is that in my personal situation, it would have been absurd for me to apply to 10-15 different schools. Though the PhD has always been my end goal, I determined that there were only a few schools/programs that I'd have been willing to drop everything, quit a lucrative career, sell a house, and drag my wife/neurotic cat states away to attend. While it wasn't at all feasible for me, personally, to broadly apply to the large number of schools that I felt drawn to, I'm guessing that most people applying to graduate school are in a much more flexible, fluid situation where the chief objective may not be to find the absolute perfect fit, necessarily, but rather to find one of a number of solid fits. In this case, since we're all kinda shooting in the dark, subject to the whims and wills of admissions committees and what sometimes feels like dumb luck, perhaps the high-volume approach is best. If the desired result is an acceptance above all else, you can only increase your chances by applying to more schools. My only caveat would be that if you plan to apply to a huge number of schools (which, I cede, may be the best course of action), you should be especially mindful of the fact that you're choosing an approach that may, after weeks/months of application fatigue, devolve into adopting a "quantity over quality" mentality; accordingly, you should fight to make sure that doesn't end up showing through in your applications.

Hi hi hi! +1 for the username "CatBowl." Not sure why. 
Reading through your post, it's clear that you're doing everything you can to maximize your chances heading into a PhD application. Having a 4.0 MA and 3.8 undergrad GPA is fantastic, having strong letter-writers will be a huge boon, a great writing sample is key, and your full-time teaching experience will likely seal the deal if the program fit is right. The GRE, in my opinion, is probably not that important in your situation; with all of your experience and the fact that you've already completed a graduate program with a 4.0, I'm not so sure the GRE will devastate your chances. How "laughable" are your scores? You don't have to answer that if you don't want--but consider that your scores probably aren't that bad if they got you into a M.A. program. By all means, retake, but I find that most people's scores aren't as bad as they think they are. If you've got a... 160 V and a 5.0 AW, maybe it's not worth it. That's just my two cents, and higher is definitely better if you have the money and confidence that you'll improve.
That leaves your SoP, which is the hardest part for almost everybody. Good luck. With your personal experience and education I don't think it will be too hard to weave a compelling tale. You've already figured out what your interests are, just lay it out convincingly and don't stress.
To try and chime in on your questions:
1) My opinion is that 14 schools is too many. Many people do the shotgun approach, but I think it's prohibitively expensive and a bit absurd. If somebody can't narrow it down to 6-10 on fit alone, maybe it's worth vetting the fit of the schools they're putting on their list. Some hold fast to the notion that the more applications you throw out, the higher chance you've got of getting accepted. I'd argue that's poppycock. If you're putting together 14 applications you're likely half-assing most of them, and more than a few will get cut because they're cookie-cutter. Find 6-10 schools you love. Look at location, funding, placement, and most importantly FIT. Spend real, hard time putting those applications together. Reach out to people you'd like to work with. Make them shine. Show the adcomm that you're clearly applying to their school and not 14 schools with the same SoP. I only applied to three schools this time around. I got outright rejected by one of the most prestigious English departments in the country, accepted by my UG alma mater, and accepted into the fully funded PhD program at my top choice school (which, please note, was not the super prestigious school). Also, you're definitely not shooting too high, because there is no such thing. If you're a top-prospect scholar they'll see it in your writing sample and your SoP. The only caveat to that is that some schools are hyperselective, and even if you belong there, you might not get in. Keep this in mind, and make sure to hedge your bets with a few schools that accept more than 1% of applicants. Less "prestige," maybe, but just as good. Prestige is overrated anyway--fit, program, opportunity, and placement are where it's at.
2) Yes! My undergraduate niche was ecocriticism and environmental literature. Love it. It's where I feel comfortable, and it's where my passions lie. I'm also a huge rhet/comp nerd, and I want to research the rhetoric of science/writing across disciplines--so I ended up seeking out a perfect fit, top-tier research school where I could do both within an English program that had great multidisciplinary ties to many other departments. From an ecocriticism perspective, I think your list is great. University of Oregon is wonderful, and at the top of the field, but if you're applying as a declared ecocriticism candidate, be prepared to knock their socks off, because it's competitive. Oregon was my top choice school for a long while, until some perspectives shifted. The same goes for UC-Davis, UC-Santa Barbara, and UCLA. I hear UC-Davis is a tough program to get into. Iowa's a great choice! There are a TON of other strong ecocriticism programs (or programs that have strong ecocriticism wings) that don't make your list. Look up Carnegie Mellon's English or Rhetoric PhD programs (Dr. Linda Flower is a hero of mine, and she teaches environmental rhetoric there), University of Idaho has a great program (but Idaho, you say? It's gorgeous! And ISLE!), University of Michigan, University of Montana, and don't forget Ohio State (you can design your own program if you convince them to let you in).
Also, a tip that was given to me when applying--find a specific interest within the broadening discipline of ecocriticism. Consider something like ecofeminism, environmental history, animal ethics, environmental ethics, etc. Even if you change your mind after entering, show them up-front that you can find a wonderful little niche to blossom in.
Hope I didn't ramble too much. Best of luck to you! 

Welcome, @CatBowl! 
I wanted to echo the many good suggestions here and, in particular, add my 2¢ about the number of applications you plan to submit. I, like @Warelin, applied to 16 schools. The cost of app fees, GRE, and GRE prep came out to ~ $2300. I had a job then, but it was about a month's pay (actually two month's after my student-loan bills), so the cost was not one I bore lightly. To put this amount in perspective, I was accepted to 3 out of 16 universities -- a 19% success rate -- even with having >95% GRE percentiles, SoPs that I fine tuned for about six months, letters from profs whom I knew very well (I just spoke at one of their retirement parties), and an essay that I proofread so often that I could likely recite it today by memory. Yet, I still received rejection letters from 13 schools! My point is that luck and unseen variables still play a large role in this crazy process. All things being equal, I would've been shut out had I not applied to those three schools that took a chance on me. 
But let's return to my investment for a moment. $2300 is a lot of money. If you're accepted to just one school, however, the potential ROI is astounding. Tuition waiver included, my program will be investing around $500,000 in me over six years. I know math isn't loved by many here (me included), but the return-on-investment yield is jaw-dropping:
ROI = (Gain from Investment - Cost of Investment) / Cost of Investment
ROI = (500k - 2.3k) / 2.3k = 216.4%
I agree with @Kilos that spending several thousand dollars on applications is absurd. But it's also absurd how little control you actually have over schools' decisions. We like to think that checking all the right boxes gives us a decent shot at acceptance. Who knows, maybe it does. But after reflecting on my time in the gauntlet, I've begun to severely doubt the extent to which we are the "masters of our fate." Granted, every year it seems that there's one superstar here that gets accepted to nearly all the programs they apply to. Most of us, though, seem to get into a few, at best. So, if you're steadfast in your commitment to going to grad school, and can afford to apply to 14 or more programs, I'd hedge your bets on the potential staggering ROI of >200%. I don't mean to be a Debby Downer, and I certainly wouldn't argue that hard work doesn't pay off. But, trivialism aside, you're accepted to 0% of the schools you don't apply to, and 0% is lower than even the smallest non-zero percentage of acceptance to a top-5 reach school.*
Which brings me to the GRE. I used to think that scoring in the stratosphere was necessary (but still not sufficient) for acceptance. Recently, however, I've been rethinking both the "necessary" and "sufficient" conditions. My own stats bear out the degree of score insufficiency: 167V/163Q/6.0A / 730 (97%) LGRE. According to ETS's chart (https://www.ets.org/s/gre/pdf/gre_guide_table4.pdf), of English majors, I scored higher than about 90% on the Verbal, 95% on the Quant, 93% on the AW, and 97% on the Literature subject test. These numbers aren't exact since the chart provides only ranges, but you get my point. To wit: only about 46 test-takers, out of roughly 1500, beat me on the subject test. Yet, I was rejected by 80% of the schools on my list! In my case, at least, high numbers didn't seem do me any magical favors across the board. 
On the other hand, another frequent poster here (whom I won't call out by name) scored lower than I did in all categories and will nonetheless be spending the next five or six years in Cambridge at Harvard, which, coincidentally, sent me a very nice rejection letter a few months ago. In the end, a school will likely accept somebody they want (for fit, personality, style, etc.) over somebody they don't want who happens to have "better" GRE scores. That calculus might sound self-evident, but it should really give you pause before you stress out too much about these silly tests. To use a hyperbolic example, if you scored 130/130/1.0, then, by all means, you should retake it. If in the more likely event you scored at or higher than 160V/145Q/5.0A, I'd focus instead on researching particular schools that need your subspecialty** and crafting a red-hot SoP and glowing WS that leave schools no choice but to accept you. You are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO*** much more than the sum of your test scores, both as a person and as an applicant. And remember, the university has to live with you for six years, which, I think, matters a lot. Thus, submitting an SoP that displays intelligence, curiosity, resolve, modesty, and kindness will go infinitely farther in gauging your sufferability than the percent of English majors you beat on a test nobody truly cares about. 
I wish you good luck, and may the admissions odds ever be in your favor! Also, if Stanford crops up on your list, feel free to PM me if you want to learn more about their program (which, by the way, is killing it in 19th-c. and post-war American lit!).  
* although the notion of reach schools may be irrelevant when most cohorts comprise ~10 spots.
** this isn't necessarily synonymous with "fit." If I could change one thing about my app cycle, I would've emailed profs and dept. assistants about which subspecialties they need. I have no idea whether they'd even respond, let alone divulge info like that, but it could go a long way toward helping cull your list. At the end of the day, a program that has met its quota on 19th-c. Americanists is almost sure to reject another aspiring Whitmanist, irrespective of astronomical scores or BAMF SoP. Also, "fit" isn't easy -- or sometimes even possible -- to gauge. I thought I'd fit in real well at UVA since two of their Victorianists are researching the exact topic of my WS. But, alas, no dice there. So beware of reading too much into that vague qualification. 
*** the Internet doesn't have enough bandwidth to support the infinite Os that ought to follow the S in that word. 
 

I think that's a solid approach. As you well know, the whole point is to (succinctly) say "Hey, I'm convinced that this program/school/department is really good at XXX; furthermore, I'm convinced that some of the faculty in this program/school/department are particularly good at/interested in XXX niche/subfield/area of interest and I would love to work with them; additionally, I'm really good at/interested in/engaged in XXX--here's how I can prove that I know what I'm talking about." None of this requires any name-dropping. Then again, as I said above, if you've already talked to a POI/contact within the department and they've implied that they're interested in working with you, I don't think you can go wrong finding a way to fold them in.
As far as tips on things to mention, I always hesitate to say too much because I'm no expert, and one of my biggest fears is to give anybody bad advice. That said, I'm happy to give examples as long as you promise to take everything I say as the anecdotal ramblings of somebody who is just as confused about the process as anybody.
Disclaimer out of the way: What I did was a buttload of research. I know you're asking for specific examples, and I'll get to that, but I think I have to emphasize that you won't know what to mention unless you've really done your homework. I started at a very high level, eliminating places I knew I wouldn't want to live (very important), then eliminating schools that didn't guarantee full funding, then eliminating schools that didn't have opportunities for summer funding, fellowships, and conference funding. I'll admit that as much as I hate generic "rankings" of schools and departments, they probably played a role in my filtering (especially the National Research Council rankings, and placement rankings). Then I started getting way more picky. I eliminated schools that didn't have at least a few active faculty members whose bodies of work aligned with my intended research path (this took a lot of time and a lot of digging through CVs, and then a lot of digging through published works listed on said CVs--I feel like I did more reading for this than I did for my thesis or my last seminar paper). Then, once I had a list of about 25 schools that I felt fit me, I went and asked some people I trusted; I asked mentors, advisors, people who knew my interests and could recommend landing places that would fit well (I didn't share my list until after they'd given me their unbiased recommendations, and then I asked if they liked any on my list, or had any reason to remove any others). Then we discussed where our lists crossed paths, and I added a few that I'd missed.
At that point I was down to about ten schools, and I started scouring the internet, the library, and even message boards like this one. I reached out to a few people at different schools (some reached back, some didn't), and I tried to make contact with current and former graduate students in the programs I liked. I tried to keep it short and sweet, and I got more than a few wonderfully detailed responses. I asked these people what they valued about the program, what they were looking when they entered, how that was working out, and what they'd discovered (both pleasant and not so) once they'd arrived. I compared these responses with what I'd uncovered through my own research and tried to build a picture of the program as best I could without ever setting foot there (which was as hard as it sounds, and could be completely off-base even now). Then, under the gun of looming deadlines, I eliminated a few more for random reasons (some just didn't feel like they were me, some didn't feel like they were in a location that my wife would feel comfortable, and others I just didn't get a good vibe about). Eventually, I was down to a handful of schools. One was local (convenience), one was the best program in the country (or at least it was in my mind, though the fit wasn't perfect), and the other one felt like it was made for me (this one rose to the top of my list while I was researching, and the rhet/comp faculty seemed open-minded, eager to expand the scope of their program, fully engaged, and the graduate students seemed happy, not overworked, and excited--they also talked about how they felt fully supported). Here's where I'll get into specifics, because I noticed how my SoPs diverged from this point.
The local school was pretty much guaranteed. It was my alma mater, I knew the faculty, and I guess it's what some might call a "safety" school. I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't spend a lot of time on this SoP (basically a pared down version of my other ones) with almost no tailoring to fit, but I still got accepted with full funding and a T.A. position. I mentioned that I was familiar with the faculty and the program. I guess this could, possibly, be interpreted as evidence that perhaps proving fit isn't as important as establishing qualification or merit.
The other two were more difficult. As I wrote the SoP to the really prestigious school, I found myself contorting my own thoughts (as well as interpretations of my past work) to try and make myself sound more appealing--it felt like I was changing who I was and what I was interested in in order to fit in better. Maybe they could tell. Maybe the fake veneer is what sunk my chances. I really wanted to attend this school, but the further I got into the SoP the more I felt that I didn't really belong. They had a few faculty members that would have been a dream to work with and whose work aligned with mine (which is why the program made it so far up on my list), but it didn't really feel like they had a huge rhet/comp contingent, and despite their great resources I was afraid I'd feel like an outsider in a top-shelf literature program.
As I wrote the SoP for my top choice school, the exact opposite happened. I felt that I could just gush about who I was, what I was passionate about, how all of my past work aligned perfectly, how I knew I fit right in, and it all just made sense. I talked about these things in particular: this school is a strong research university with well-established and burgeoning schools/departments across dozens of disciplines (numerous sciences, linguistics, psychology, etc.), and the English department is known for having wonderful, productive relationships with many of them; the rhet/comp side of this department is run by a group of really gung-ho faculty who have a wealth of experience with the rhetoric of science, the interdisciplinary facets of composition, writing across disciplines, and (to a lesser extent) ecocriticism, which is the exact kind of environment I was looking for; these same rhet/comp faculty run a stellar FYW (first-year-writing) program with a 24 student cap on each section, and a 1-1 course load for the TAs (which really gives the TAs a chance to work one-on-one with students rather than lecture and pray); they also have a spread of courses that the TAs can begin teaching as they develop professionally, including literature and rhetoric courses, some of which the TAs have a great deal of control over. I've rambled too much already, and I could add some more detail, but I feel like I probably shouldn't re-write my whole SoP here. Essentially, I did what I could to briefly index what I loved about the program, why I loved it, why I knew this would be a unique, stimulating, resource-rich environment for me as an individual--and, most importantly, I made sure to turn all of this back around and relate it to my past work and future goals. All said, this probably amounted to 1/4th of my SoP. Another 1/4 was sign-on and sign-off, and the 1/2 remaining was diving into my proposed research topics and intended trajectory.
What I'm getting at, while trying to answer your questions, is that you when you stumble across these things while researching potential schools, they will jump out at you. You'll think "holy crap, that's great, that's just what I'm looking for." When you have those moments, jot them down and try to remember why you felt so energized about it at that very moment. Put that energy and excitement into your SoP, and remember to do it without sounding like a crazed idiot. There's an important line between positive, focused energy and unhinged, aimless vomitus (trust me, I know, I'm a rambler, as is evidenced here). 
Also, you asked about classes: Often times you can go on a department's website and they'll have the courses/seminars posted for the next year. All of the schools I applied to had this--one of them I was able to request. They usually say "subject to change," but this, paired with a list of past offerings, can give you a really good idea of what to expect from a department. Often times there will be great 1-2 paragraph descriptions of the seminar. Just feel it out!
Finally, I think you're right when you say that you can't really get a good feel for the ethos of a program until you're actually in it. This sucks. It makes applying really hard. Then again, you don't know what that entree is going to taste like until you order it and eat it--you just have to do your best to figure out what it might be like by browsing some online reviews, looking at a recipe, reading the menu, looking around at the other diners' plates, asking the wait staff, and glancing into the kitchen. Research will get you as close to the finish line as anything else.

@CatBowl
Yeah, if you know your GRE is a weak spot (indicated by the provisional acceptance you pointed out) I think you're on the right track trying to better your score. What helped me was finding a few pirated study guides floating around the interwebs. If you dig deep enough you can find them. Just live with one attached to your side for a month or two. Make enormous lists of vocab, practice the different types of questions. You'll do great!
I wish I could definitively answer your question about whether it's wise or unwise to reference specific scholars and works. I think there's quite a broad range of opinions on this. Personally, I think it's okay to mention specific work or scholar if it's done so seamlessly, but the last thing you want to do is detract from yourself. You don't want to give them the idea that you're piggybacking off some other work, or that you don't have original thought. The SoP (obviously) should be about you--your ideas, your grand plans, and your pending scholarship. If you somehow launch into a paragraph-long lark about this one guy you read, that's going to come off poorly. In my successful applications I have mentioned authors and genres of interest, but I have not folded in scholars or their works. I feel that in a medium as confining as a SoP, the focus should be kept on you. Then again, in the end, you know best. If a one-sentence reference really knocks home your point, toss it in there!
And yes, I've been on the receiving end of that "crazy" look too. I told one of my most treasured mentors that I was applying to three schools, and he gave me some side-eye. Ha. 
Side note: I love ecofeminism, and I think that if you're passionate about it you can't really go wrong angling that direction. It shows, if nothing else, that you're capable of zeroing in on a specific topic. It's not like it's etched in stone anyway.
Thanks, too, for your kind words. I'm really excited about starting my program this fall! Keep us all updated on your progress!

+1 for good info!
And, although I think the University of Oregon is a bit lower at around top 50~ish in the rankings, they don't guarantee first year funding either. It's a weird situation where they don't give classroom teaching appointments to PhD students straight out of a B.A. program if they don't have college teaching experience... and then, because you can't teach the first year, you have to compete for a "limited number" of "non-classroom" graduate teaching fellowships (essentially working as a writing tutor). This was why I ended up not applying though it was one of my top-choice programs. I couldn't risk moving across the country for a spot in a program that had a possibly unfunded first year. Too risky.
I think most people would be really surprised if they knew just how many of these patchwork funding situations exist out there. Also, keep in mind that a lot of these stipends are so low that you simply can't live off of them. I grew up near Eugene, Oregon (where the UofO is), and I guarantee that you can't live in Eugene on the stipend they offer (12k for 0.40 FTE). Guarantee. So you're gonna have to work a significant number of hours on the side. I'd posit that this same situation exists across the country. I wouldn't call a program "fully funded" if you can't eke out a living on the stipend. That's just my opinion.

Absolutely true. If nothing else, do a bit of half-hearted apartment/room shopping in your desired locale. I was blown away by how expensive it is to live in a few of these places. Seriously, shocked.

+1 for good info!
And, although I think the University of Oregon is a bit lower at around top 50~ish in the rankings, they don't guarantee first year funding either. It's a weird situation where they don't give classroom teaching appointments to PhD students straight out of a B.A. program if they don't have college teaching experience... and then, because you can't teach the first year, you have to compete for a "limited number" of "non-classroom" graduate teaching fellowships (essentially working as a writing tutor). This was why I ended up not applying though it was one of my top-choice programs. I couldn't risk moving across the country for a spot in a program that had a possibly unfunded first year. Too risky.
I think most people would be really surprised if they knew just how many of these patchwork funding situations exist out there. Also, keep in mind that a lot of these stipends are so low that you simply can't live off of them. I grew up near Eugene, Oregon (where the UofO is), and I guarantee that you can't live in Eugene on the stipend they offer (12k for 0.40 FTE). Guarantee. So you're gonna have to work a significant number of hours on the side. I'd posit that this same situation exists across the country. I wouldn't call a program "fully funded" if you can't eke out a living on the stipend. That's just my opinion.

+1 for good info!
And, although I think the University of Oregon is a bit lower at around top 50~ish in the rankings, they don't guarantee first year funding either. It's a weird situation where they don't give classroom teaching appointments to PhD students straight out of a B.A. program if they don't have college teaching experience... and then, because you can't teach the first year, you have to compete for a "limited number" of "non-classroom" graduate teaching fellowships (essentially working as a writing tutor). This was why I ended up not applying though it was one of my top-choice programs. I couldn't risk moving across the country for a spot in a program that had a possibly unfunded first year. Too risky.
I think most people would be really surprised if they knew just how many of these patchwork funding situations exist out there. Also, keep in mind that a lot of these stipends are so low that you simply can't live off of them. I grew up near Eugene, Oregon (where the UofO is), and I guarantee that you can't live in Eugene on the stipend they offer (12k for 0.40 FTE). Guarantee. So you're gonna have to work a significant number of hours on the side. I'd posit that this same situation exists across the country. I wouldn't call a program "fully funded" if you can't eke out a living on the stipend. That's just my opinion.

I agree with you on that assessment. The term 'fully-funded' often does not mean much. There are schools in the T80 which do a much better job in terms of both funding and job placement. While it's nearly impossible to deny that T10 schools do a better job of placing at more recognized schools (partly also due to their history and their larger class sizes in the past), I think it's also important to consider that
A ) The majority of jobs available are not at R1 Institutions and sometimes these institutions fear that you're just waiting for a position to open up at a "more elite" institution.
B ) The stipend may have been cheaper to live in earlier but has skyrocketed in recent times.  Boulder, CO and Austin, TX are two cities that come in mind which have recently faced a huge increased cost in living.
C) The best fit for your research interests might be better at institutions outside the T20. The specific concentration in that field will recognize names and the type of scholars your program has produced. 
D) The stipends provided at some schools might force you to be far away from campus or you might need roommates to be able to afford rent. Since you'll spend a considerable amount of time at this location, I think it's an important one to consider.

I would be incredibly shocked if any program listed in the top 40 or so of the US News rankings in English didn't fully fund every student they admitted.  I don't have an intimate knowledge of each of those programs that allows me to say for sure, but my jaw would drop if I met a grad student in one of those programs and they said they didn't have a tuition waiver and a stipend.
Most programs have a standard funding package.  Some have special funding packages they offer to applicants they find very desirable that have more money. That language you're describing is pretty boiler-plate. Grad school funding is full of things that departments are unable to "guarantee" because budgets vary wildly year to year, but that in practice everyone gets. If you're very concerned about that language and it's giving you anxiety about applying, e-mail the DGS of that program and ask them about it.  It's a very fair question.
Now, how far that stipend goes and how well it allows a grad student to live is another matter entirely.  It is a really important question to ask when you're talking to grad students attending programs you're interested in.

+1 for good info!
And, although I think the University of Oregon is a bit lower at around top 50~ish in the rankings, they don't guarantee first year funding either. It's a weird situation where they don't give classroom teaching appointments to PhD students straight out of a B.A. program if they don't have college teaching experience... and then, because you can't teach the first year, you have to compete for a "limited number" of "non-classroom" graduate teaching fellowships (essentially working as a writing tutor). This was why I ended up not applying though it was one of my top-choice programs. I couldn't risk moving across the country for a spot in a program that had a possibly unfunded first year. Too risky.
I think most people would be really surprised if they knew just how many of these patchwork funding situations exist out there. Also, keep in mind that a lot of these stipends are so low that you simply can't live off of them. I grew up near Eugene, Oregon (where the UofO is), and I guarantee that you can't live in Eugene on the stipend they offer (12k for 0.40 FTE). Guarantee. So you're gonna have to work a significant number of hours on the side. I'd posit that this same situation exists across the country. I wouldn't call a program "fully funded" if you can't eke out a living on the stipend. That's just my opinion.

There are a few schools in the top 30/40 who do not guarantee funding.

In recent cycles, the following come to mind:

University of Wisconsin offered a 3 year package to multiple phd students.
The University of North Carolina doesn't guarantee first year funding.
Penn State University doesn't guarantee funding to international students.
The University of Illinois has had 3 strikes in the past 5 years due to tuition waivers being threatened to being withdrawn.
The University of Colorado doesn't fund all PHD applicants. They make it known on their page that they only fund 4 spots and the remainder of acceptances are unfunded.

Hello there! I'm a long-time lurker (looks like I created this account shortly after I finished Sophomore year of undergrad, so I apologize for the incredibly random name) but am only just now posting on grad cafe. I figured that I'd wait until I finished my entire undergraduate career to begin posting. I've read every post here and there's not much I can add as every post has been far more lucid than I'll ever write (I'll be honest and say that some of these posts have been immensely calming down my own anxiety over the SoP and defining my research interests), so I can only offer solidarity. I've only just recently graduated from undergrad and am currently preparing my application materials for the upcoming fall cycle. I've already squared off letters and I'm beginning initial inroads in studying for both the GRE General and Literature tests. I'm also beginning to make a handy-dandy sheet to remind myself of the various program deadlines that I want to apply to. I've decided to take a gap year just to save myself from the chaos of applying during the senior year and to give myself some breathing room from having been in school for a long time.
How I found what I wanted to specialize in is basically 90% luck and 10% realizing I performed better in this field after a bit of internal hesitance. I initially went into my undergrad program with a very vague interest in F. Scott Fitzgerald and early 20th century American literature. That got upended very, very quickly by the end of my Freshman year. Now, the field I intend to go into and put in my applications is 20th and 21st century American poetry (starting from the Modernist movement and up to the present moment) with a theoretical subspecialty in Queer Theory. I'll be quite honest with you, trying to even describe what I'm specifically interested in feels terrifying, as I feel like I would just be parroting the senior thesis I wrote and would look very unaware of current scholarly debate. In terms of finding my research interests, I got very lucky in finding just the right professor and right class during my freshman year of undergrad. I discovered very early on that I had a much easier time constructing essays critically analyzing poetry than prose. I noticed this even as I progressed through my undergraduate studies. I felt far more at home in any poetry class versus classes filled with novels, and it didn't quite matter what literary period of poetry it was. (I felt more comfortable studying Romantic Poetry versus the American Novel etc.), but I felt most at home with my American Poetry classes. I was lucky enough that my passions, both in terms of primary text and critical theoretical work, fit very snugly with my interests in 20th century American poetry and onwards. I decided to softly declare it as my specialty right around the time I became a Junior, and it being an actual specialty was ingrained in me when I wrapped up my honors thesis and realized how many holes I could feasibly fill in with the projects I was working (not just my honors thesis, but also a 15-page seminar paper that was more focused on the 20th century part of my interests). My interest in queer theory is kind of even more of an accident. I don't even remember how I was interested in it, I've just always had an extant interest in that critical theory that intensified as my undergrad advisor gave me possible poets to research for my thesis. The poet I settled on allowed for a very clear in-road for a queer theoretical intervention, and reading texts in queer theory is just as enjoyable as monographs on poetry (either movements or specific poets). Monographs that combine both are even more enjoyable.
I've had far too many moments, and going through one right now, where I feel ill-prepared to even apply because of how broad-ranging my interests are and can be, even if I've temporally marked the period that I want to research. There's a lot of possibilities I'm considering... One part of me wants to create a constellation of a queer American poetic archive from Whitman  to now, there's a part of me that wants to do a critical biography on someone I've studied, one wants to explore the notion of queer lyricism, another wants to continue my undergrad work and see how the conception of queer poetic/post-confession stacks up in literary discourse, another part of me is interested in exploring the island of Key West in poetics as queer and colonized space, another wants to continue reading Jose Munoz, and etc. etc. I have a lot of possible projects crafted out of lunacy and strange over-thinking. At its worst, I feel absolutely clueless and have no idea how I was even able to finish my undergrad degree. I'm still trying to find a way to articulate this all into a reasonable package for a SoP, and I've been very lucky to have supportive undergrad mentors who were able to help gently guide me through research.
This is just my anecdote so far from a recent undergrad turned grad. No doubt in a year or two, this will be massively different. Hope this provides some sort of help, but I'm only just starting the formal process of thinking about graduate school and PhD programs in English beyond just an abstract 'I will apply.'

I think that's a solid approach. As you well know, the whole point is to (succinctly) say "Hey, I'm convinced that this program/school/department is really good at XXX; furthermore, I'm convinced that some of the faculty in this program/school/department are particularly good at/interested in XXX niche/subfield/area of interest and I would love to work with them; additionally, I'm really good at/interested in/engaged in XXX--here's how I can prove that I know what I'm talking about." None of this requires any name-dropping. Then again, as I said above, if you've already talked to a POI/contact within the department and they've implied that they're interested in working with you, I don't think you can go wrong finding a way to fold them in.
As far as tips on things to mention, I always hesitate to say too much because I'm no expert, and one of my biggest fears is to give anybody bad advice. That said, I'm happy to give examples as long as you promise to take everything I say as the anecdotal ramblings of somebody who is just as confused about the process as anybody.
Disclaimer out of the way: What I did was a buttload of research. I know you're asking for specific examples, and I'll get to that, but I think I have to emphasize that you won't know what to mention unless you've really done your homework. I started at a very high level, eliminating places I knew I wouldn't want to live (very important), then eliminating schools that didn't guarantee full funding, then eliminating schools that didn't have opportunities for summer funding, fellowships, and conference funding. I'll admit that as much as I hate generic "rankings" of schools and departments, they probably played a role in my filtering (especially the National Research Council rankings, and placement rankings). Then I started getting way more picky. I eliminated schools that didn't have at least a few active faculty members whose bodies of work aligned with my intended research path (this took a lot of time and a lot of digging through CVs, and then a lot of digging through published works listed on said CVs--I feel like I did more reading for this than I did for my thesis or my last seminar paper). Then, once I had a list of about 25 schools that I felt fit me, I went and asked some people I trusted; I asked mentors, advisors, people who knew my interests and could recommend landing places that would fit well (I didn't share my list until after they'd given me their unbiased recommendations, and then I asked if they liked any on my list, or had any reason to remove any others). Then we discussed where our lists crossed paths, and I added a few that I'd missed.
At that point I was down to about ten schools, and I started scouring the internet, the library, and even message boards like this one. I reached out to a few people at different schools (some reached back, some didn't), and I tried to make contact with current and former graduate students in the programs I liked. I tried to keep it short and sweet, and I got more than a few wonderfully detailed responses. I asked these people what they valued about the program, what they were looking when they entered, how that was working out, and what they'd discovered (both pleasant and not so) once they'd arrived. I compared these responses with what I'd uncovered through my own research and tried to build a picture of the program as best I could without ever setting foot there (which was as hard as it sounds, and could be completely off-base even now). Then, under the gun of looming deadlines, I eliminated a few more for random reasons (some just didn't feel like they were me, some didn't feel like they were in a location that my wife would feel comfortable, and others I just didn't get a good vibe about). Eventually, I was down to a handful of schools. One was local (convenience), one was the best program in the country (or at least it was in my mind, though the fit wasn't perfect), and the other one felt like it was made for me (this one rose to the top of my list while I was researching, and the rhet/comp faculty seemed open-minded, eager to expand the scope of their program, fully engaged, and the graduate students seemed happy, not overworked, and excited--they also talked about how they felt fully supported). Here's where I'll get into specifics, because I noticed how my SoPs diverged from this point.
The local school was pretty much guaranteed. It was my alma mater, I knew the faculty, and I guess it's what some might call a "safety" school. I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't spend a lot of time on this SoP (basically a pared down version of my other ones) with almost no tailoring to fit, but I still got accepted with full funding and a T.A. position. I mentioned that I was familiar with the faculty and the program. I guess this could, possibly, be interpreted as evidence that perhaps proving fit isn't as important as establishing qualification or merit.
The other two were more difficult. As I wrote the SoP to the really prestigious school, I found myself contorting my own thoughts (as well as interpretations of my past work) to try and make myself sound more appealing--it felt like I was changing who I was and what I was interested in in order to fit in better. Maybe they could tell. Maybe the fake veneer is what sunk my chances. I really wanted to attend this school, but the further I got into the SoP the more I felt that I didn't really belong. They had a few faculty members that would have been a dream to work with and whose work aligned with mine (which is why the program made it so far up on my list), but it didn't really feel like they had a huge rhet/comp contingent, and despite their great resources I was afraid I'd feel like an outsider in a top-shelf literature program.
As I wrote the SoP for my top choice school, the exact opposite happened. I felt that I could just gush about who I was, what I was passionate about, how all of my past work aligned perfectly, how I knew I fit right in, and it all just made sense. I talked about these things in particular: this school is a strong research university with well-established and burgeoning schools/departments across dozens of disciplines (numerous sciences, linguistics, psychology, etc.), and the English department is known for having wonderful, productive relationships with many of them; the rhet/comp side of this department is run by a group of really gung-ho faculty who have a wealth of experience with the rhetoric of science, the interdisciplinary facets of composition, writing across disciplines, and (to a lesser extent) ecocriticism, which is the exact kind of environment I was looking for; these same rhet/comp faculty run a stellar FYW (first-year-writing) program with a 24 student cap on each section, and a 1-1 course load for the TAs (which really gives the TAs a chance to work one-on-one with students rather than lecture and pray); they also have a spread of courses that the TAs can begin teaching as they develop professionally, including literature and rhetoric courses, some of which the TAs have a great deal of control over. I've rambled too much already, and I could add some more detail, but I feel like I probably shouldn't re-write my whole SoP here. Essentially, I did what I could to briefly index what I loved about the program, why I loved it, why I knew this would be a unique, stimulating, resource-rich environment for me as an individual--and, most importantly, I made sure to turn all of this back around and relate it to my past work and future goals. All said, this probably amounted to 1/4th of my SoP. Another 1/4 was sign-on and sign-off, and the 1/2 remaining was diving into my proposed research topics and intended trajectory.
What I'm getting at, while trying to answer your questions, is that you when you stumble across these things while researching potential schools, they will jump out at you. You'll think "holy crap, that's great, that's just what I'm looking for." When you have those moments, jot them down and try to remember why you felt so energized about it at that very moment. Put that energy and excitement into your SoP, and remember to do it without sounding like a crazed idiot. There's an important line between positive, focused energy and unhinged, aimless vomitus (trust me, I know, I'm a rambler, as is evidenced here). 
Also, you asked about classes: Often times you can go on a department's website and they'll have the courses/seminars posted for the next year. All of the schools I applied to had this--one of them I was able to request. They usually say "subject to change," but this, paired with a list of past offerings, can give you a really good idea of what to expect from a department. Often times there will be great 1-2 paragraph descriptions of the seminar. Just feel it out!
Finally, I think you're right when you say that you can't really get a good feel for the ethos of a program until you're actually in it. This sucks. It makes applying really hard. Then again, you don't know what that entree is going to taste like until you order it and eat it--you just have to do your best to figure out what it might be like by browsing some online reviews, looking at a recipe, reading the menu, looking around at the other diners' plates, asking the wait staff, and glancing into the kitchen. Research will get you as close to the finish line as anything else.

I always feel compelled to address people's impostor syndrome fears before anything else: Everybody feels this way. If they claim they don't they're lying. Academia is an enormous, nebulous, vague, intimidating, initially uncertain place, and it's absolutely normal to feel this way. I'm getting ready start a Ph.D. program this fall after sinking 10 years into two divergent careers and another half-dozen into two undergraduate programs. I'm now in my early thirties and I've felt like an impostor in every career position I've held and every program I've attended. In some cases the feelings tapered off after a while, in others they hung around and plagued me--and I've ultimately excelled in all venues. I feel like impostor syndrome is a healthy, productive (albeit completely terrifying) mental tempering tool. It keeps you humble, it drives you to keep up and keep relevant, it reinforces the notion that you should never stop learning and growing as an academic or as a part of society. If you can harness these feelings of inadequacy to motivate yourself and not let it tear you down, it can only make you stronger and more prepared. My advice is to simply be the intelligent, inquisitive person who was awesome enough to make it this far, and let the rest fall into place.
As to your question about research interests--I'll keep it as short and sweet as I can:
Work on what fires you up. Do what you love. Pursue your passion. Grab a shovel, dig yourself a nice little niche (with room for a bookshelf), and let the field settle in around you. There's certainly something to be said for bolstering or fleshing out existing research within the academic boundaries of a field/subfield that has already been well-defined--and if that's where your interests lie, that can be a win/win situation. If you don't fall directly into one of those molds, that's great too; find a vein that piques your intellectual curiosity and follow it until something unique catches your attention off to one side or another. If you don't fall anywhere near any mold, refer to my advice about the shovel. Choose your field based on your strengths and interests, but choose the trajectory of your research within that field based on your passions. Following your passion will lead to a happier life, as well as a stronger, more inspired body of work. This advice won't work for everybody, and I'm positive that some people disagree with the stance (because they have before)--but what is the point of dedicating our lives to the pursuit of knowledge and empowered education if we're not absolutely enthralled with what we're diving into?
This advice might also be a bit dangerous to take when initially applying to graduate programs, because you really have to watch your audience and make sure you're not flying off on a lark. In that case I'd recommend taking a more tempered approach and only revealing the depth of your lunacy after you've been accepted.
Personally, I've always known that my passions are splattered across a broad spectrum of science disciplines, as well as linguistics, psychology, neuroscience, philosophy, ethnography, climatology, and a number of other fields. I've also always known that my skills, strengths, and general interests are deeply rooted in English and composition. So, because I always felt like an academic outsider that never really belonged any one place in particular, I just grabbed a shovel and dug myself a niche in the Rhet/Comp wing of a great English department, and I now plan to spend a huge chunk of my life trying to deep-dive into rhetoric of science for the good of humanity (or so I tell myself). Without getting into too much detail, my primary research goals involve the intersection between climate change, ecocriticism, rhetoric, public policy, and writing across the disciplines. When I arrived at this conclusion and wrote my SoP and writing samples, I often felt like this was an uninhabited space in the void of academia--which was both gratifying and petrifying--but I've since encountered a solid handful of others whose research interests and published works align very closely with mine, and I could tell they also used shovels to get where they were. I also have about ninety thousand other interests that will inevitably try to swallow me whole, but I've been told that a huge part of graduate school is learning how to pare down your scope to focus in on a sensible, defensible topic, and I look forward to that. 
TLDR version: Stop trying to cram yourself into a sardine can with five million other people. If you like that sardine can, that's wonderful--but why try to block-format your intellect to fit a mold? Find your niche and stand your ground. Figure out how to shape your interests to fit the field you intend to enter. Find a program or department that aligns itself with the way you see the field. Figure out what truly excites you academically and chase it. You'll either succeed splendidly or you'll crash, burn, fail, be miserable, and give up on life. What do you have to lose?

Seconded.
Unless you've been in contact with them and they've agreed to work with you, it's highly unlikely that they'd be around enough to take on any kind of advisory role. I'd shy away from even mentioning them in passing, like "I really enjoy Professor XXXX's work" because you never know how that professor was viewed within the department, or whether the department is moving in a different direction, so on and so forth. Others may feel differently, but I've always heard that you should avoid name-dropping any faculty members, period, unless you've been in contact with them and they've at least implied that they might like to work with you. All of my successful applications avoided mentioning specific people.