Chicago Literary Hall of Fame: 2024 in Review

by Donald G. Evans

A year is a super long time that is gone in a snap. You do, do, do, do some more…and then it’s done. Before we move on, we want to reflect on what 2024 meant to the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame and those we serve. This past year was our 15^th as an organization, depending on how you do the math. I started brainstorming this project back in 2009, when Chicago Writers Association President Randy Richardson encouraged us Board members to bring a project to the table. Believe me when I say I had no idea what I was getting into. I certainly didn’t envision this idea growing into a mature, independent non-profit organization. But here we are: that first year went in a snap, and then we were recruiting nominators and selectors, then we were hosting our first induction ceremony (another year or two gone in a snap) then we were adding the Fuller Award for lifetime achievement (more years gone in a snap), then we decided to create a Chicago Literary Landmark map, and an Author’s Index. Snap, snap. Snap. We were giving walking tours and a bus tour, adding youth programming to our offerings, we were inducting more dead writers and honoring more living writers, we were putting a statue of Gwendolyn Brooks in the park bearing her name, hosting panel discussions and readings, putting on staged readings and then publishing a poetry anthology—snap, snap, snap, snap.

So: goodbye, 2024, we hardly knew ye. It’s tradition, in these Year in Review letters, to discuss accomplishments—essentially, to argue that the past 12 months were successful. But how do we measure success? Attendance at our many programs? Positive feedback from our audience? Press attention? Money? I’m really not sure about any of that. It’s of course encouraging when somebody says, “Your ceremony was so beautiful it made me cry,” and the opposite when somebody else says, “I never heard of the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame.” But neither example is proof of much.

For us, 2024 was a success for all the obvious reasons— we inducted our newest class of writers to bring the total inductees to 64; we presented our 16^th and 17^th Fuller Award statues to Patricia Smith and Alex Kotlowitz; we hosted our second annual Randall Albers Young Writers Award Ceremony & Open Mic, as well as an open mic for high school writers at Printers Row Lit Fest; we helped stage the Spoon River House Festival and Dooley’s Place; we contributed to the film screening Light of Truth: Richard Hunt's Monument for Ida B. Wells, Indie Bookstore Day, Opening Day Themefest, and The Future of Literary Stewardship; we orchestrated a reading with Diego Báez, Jacob Saenz, and Pablo E. Ramirez, as well as Worlds and Words of Chicago: Immigrant Stories; took part in Lit Fest weekend and the American Writers Festival; threw several parties, including The Great Gimlet and a backyard volunteer appreciation barbecue; wrote essays, interviews, profiles and reviews for our blog; added literary landmark entries to our website; updated the various indexes of bookstores, authors, literature, and live lit programs; amplified community news via social media; served on committees to select important awards and develop interesting city programs; and so forth. EVERY SPECK of what we did related directly to Chicago literature.

The Chicago Literary Hall of Fame’s mission is to celebrate, preserve, and promote our city’s great literary heritage—past, present, and future. That means, essentially, that we do our small part to nurture good literature, build a community in which our stories are cherished, and participate in our ongoing history.

The year 2024 was mostly a success because I believe the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame did meaningful work in connecting many parts of our community. The celebration of literature often demands a spotlight. That’s the way it should be, mostly. A great book deserves our attention. A phenomenal author should receive our admiration. But there are not enough spotlights to go around, and our time in that spotlight (if it ever comes) is incredibly short—maybe not even a snap. In 2024, we spotlighted authors like Lani Montreal, Diego Báez, Nestor Gomez, Ugochi Nwaogwugwu, and others. We gave deserving high school writers their first chance to be lit up. We turned on the nightlight for authors like E. Donald Two-Rivers, Hamlin Garland, Eunice Tietjens, Ida B. Wells, Edgar Lee Masters, and Finley Peter Dunne.

In all of this, we did our best to expand that light. We enlisted important authors, editors, scholars, booksellers, institution builders, and librarians to take part in our celebrations. We reinforced the value of these supporting cast members to our audiences. We introduced literary citizens to each other, and hopefully created a scramble to catch up on one another’s work. This attention is not about ego; it’s about sustainment. Our enthusiasm, and yours, is required, lest we want to watch our literature die.

Our real success, in 2024, was creating and supporting so many occasions for us to read, and to relish Chicago literature. Each of these occasions brought out the best in us. As we circulated around the various auditoriums, bars, theatres, living rooms, backyards, and event spaces we made ourselves part of the story. What is the story? The story is that of a city in which literature thrives, even as corporate interests, ugly politics, technological intrusions, and pure apathy swirl around the globe.

Our success is your success, and vice versa. We need each other, I’m sure of that. The way we spend our time, and our money, tells us what we value. Just before that fateful CWA board meeting, when I introduced the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame, I’d traveled extensively through Europe. In Ireland, authors don’t pay taxes on their book sales (to an extent). In England, there are hundreds of blue plaques marking sites associated with their most celebrated authors. In France, you can visit The Maison de Balzac or Victor Hugo’s old apartment. In Sweden, a bronze statue of Astrid Lindgren sits outside a children's museum and in Denmark a Little Mermaid statue stands in a harbor.

In Chicago, we value stories. We value deep exploration. We value ideas. We value intellectual curiosity. In 2024, the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame invested our time and our money in bringing to light the kinds of stories that encompass all of that, and in the process made us even stronger as a place where literature thrives.

Donald G. Evans is the Founding Executive Director of the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame.