October 30, 2026
New Verse Review Halloween Issue
How to Talk About Murder
A Guide to Reading Ghost Stories With Russell Kirk
The Valley of Bones
New Verse Review Halloween Issue
I’m not really into Halloween, but this issue has some excellent poems that address Halloween in a way that I find more interesting than those that fetishize horror for horror’s sake, like this one from Dan Sheehan “Yard Skeletons.”
How to Talk About Murder
I was at the ALSCW conference last weekend and attended a fascinating panel on Poe so it was nice to catch this essay on his work from Emily Ogden:
Perverseness, Poe thought, was as fundamental a drive as hunger or libido, with its own dedicated region of the brain. When we are perverse, we turn not only against our better judgment but also against what are apparently our desires. “The Imp of the Perverse” begins with an essay defining the concept and giving examples that range from the harmless to the unsettling; Poe classes as perverse both procrastination and the impulse to kill oneself by jumping from a great height.
A Guide to Reading Ghost Stories With Russell Kirk
Robert M. Woods writes about how Kirk thought that “the “ghost tale” may better communicate certain truths when compared to science fiction.”
For Kirk, the “ghost tale” may better communicate certain truths when compared to science fiction. “For symbol and allegory, the shadow–world is a better realm than the mechanized empire of science fiction.” It is so important to stress here, for the reader of this essay, that the realities these stories speak of are not merely symbol or allegory, as it is the case that a symbol (by he nature of being a symbol) points to or hints at a reality beyond itself. In other words, an allegory is parallel to something that is really real beyond itself. If this is not the case, then allegories and symbols merely refer to other symbols and allegories and the mirror maze becomes a prison.
The Valley of Bones
Tom Hellenbrand in The Lamp on a search and rescue mission in Arizona:
It was late in the night and long into the journey when we stopped again. My van suddenly pulled off onto an abandoned dirt road and parked next to a wooden shed. While we waited, I wondered if people were kidnapped on this side of the border. There must have been some confusion because my group called Rogelio to find out his location. We reconvened at a gas station in Gila Bend. There we met up with José, another Armadillo who had driven down from Phoenix. As we stood outside under the bright lights of the station’s pavilion, Henri and I locked eyes and laughed nervously. I was grateful when Pablo filled the flat tire with air.
