125 Years of ABA: Q&A with Michelle Malonzo

This week, Bookselling This Week met with Michelle Malonzo, a bookseller and publisher who has served on both the ABA Board and the Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Council.

Bookselling This Week: Why don't you tell me a little bit about your career trajectory? I heard that you started in publishing, then you ended up in bookselling. And where are you now?

Michelle Malonzo: I was working in Big Five publishing for about 10 years — working with independent bookstores on author events. I was the liaison between publicity and the stores.

Then I moved back home to Phoenix, Arizona, and it ended up dovetailing perfectly with a bookstore needing a buyer.

So, for five years I was a book buyer and bookseller. Then I made a bit of a pivot and moved to a literary arts nonprofit. I did that for three years and now am back in publishing — specifically small press publishing as Director of Marketing and Sales at Sarabande Books.

I love bookselling and I love publishing. I love writers and I love the people, both in publishing and bookselling, who are putting those books out into the world. It feels great to be back in it.

While I was a bookseller, I was a member of the ABA Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Council (DEIC), I think before it was even officially a committee. I worked alongside Hannah Oliver Depp, Angela María Spring, and Veronica Liu amongst others. I looked to them first as mentors, comrades and now I can call them my friends.

Then I served as an ABA Board Member, though I left before completing my full term because I transitioned out of bookselling.

So, I've been involved in various aspects of the industry.

I was in bookselling during before and after the pandemic.

I entered publishing when Borders was still around and when the iPad came into existence, which makes me sound so old now that I say it out loud.

BTW: Has seeing all those aspects of the industry changed how you view books and bookselling, or has your view stayed pretty consistent?

MM: It's definitely changed.

Bookselling is the heart of publishing.

Every single person who works on a book is important, whether it is the publisher or the warehouse worker packing the books, but I have seen so many books published and then lost in the shuffle. Countless books are published with no marketing budget, and the way those books thrive is through bookselling, through librarians, and through other readers who are telling people about these books.

All of that to me is bookselling, and it is the life of the industry.

Publishing is a business, and I think that booksellers, along with so many others in this industry, including editorial assistants, publicity assistants, and warehouse workers are completely undervalued and underappreciated. Without them, these books would have no place.

So, I walked into publishing with dreams, and I have a lot of love for it, but also clarity as to the reality of things.

BTW: While you were in bookselling, what prompted you to get involved with ABA?

Winter Institute in Memphis was my first time as a bookseller, and I was really overwhelmed by the whiteness of the room. I was taken aback, because I had imagined Winter Institute as this convening or representation of booksellers nationwide.

Growing up in Arizona, it was hard to find people of color working at the desk in bookstores but I had an understanding of what Arizona was, as far as the history of color lines here. But I had made an assumption that things were more diverse in other places.

It was embarrassingly naïve. And…I just got really mad.

When I left publishing, I entered bookselling with a better understanding of how books by BIPOC authors were being sold and how they were being talked about behind closed doors in publishing. Then I saw them go into the marketplace and that predominantly white hands were the ones handling them. I didn’t see us in publishing and it was shocking to not see us in bookselling too.

When I was in Memphis, there was all this discussion about what happened at the Minneapolis Institute and some of the conversations that were taking place. I had known Hannah from when I was in publishing and we connected and I was just like, “Where are we?” And she said, “Let me show you.”

I told her how I was feeling, and she was like, "Great, let's use that energy.” I became involved in the DEI committee shortly thereafter.

The next Winter Institute I went to was Baltimore, which was rough for me as a person of color, and as a Latinx woman, because of the conversation around a prominent book that many, including myself, found harmful. Many of us were not just upset about the content. Its publication brought to the forefront the dark underbelly of corporate publishing.

During that time, many people I respected and who I had thought were like-minded individuals said things to me that were heartbreaking and just devastating. I was being told in terse, condescending and scolding tones how I should feel and think. I was scolded mostly by people who had seniority in the industry. They kept reminding me they lived through the civil rights movement and knew what free speech meant simply because they had lived through the ‘60s. I respected their experiences but I saw no respect or acknowledgement from them for my own. That experience changed my entire trajectory.

At that moment, I thought, “Well, if I am going to complain about ABA, then why don't I tell them directly? Why don't I actually go see what is happening? How can I be involved?”

I knew there were people at ABA who were trying to make changes, both on the Board and on staff, and with Allison as the new CEO, it felt like a new day and a good time to really deepen some of those conversations.

So, I got involved. Originally with the DEIC, then when there was an opening on the board, someone asked if they could nominate me. And I was like, “Interesting… I don't really know what goes behind closed doors. I don't really understand how it works and why certain decisions are made or not made. Yes, I'm going to do it.”

I am proud of the work that I did within ABA. I am honored that I worked alongside the other people at ABA, both Board and staff. It was a privilege.

ABA has made some immense strides, but like everything in this country, it was built upon inequity, white supremacy, and exclusion. There is so much more work that needs to be done. And that change, that forward momentum, can never stop.

There’s not a point where you stop and say, “Ok, we did it.” It’s a constant process — there is just learning and unlearning. There is what feels right today based on community feedback and that could be wrong tomorrow based on new information. And that's okay.

BTW: Are there any particular projects that came out of your time on the committee or on the Board that you want to point to that you're proud of? Even though they are continually evolving or should be?

I am proud that our fight for free expression does not include hate speech. Hate speech is a violent, powerful weapon, and we are in a narrative war.

I am really proud that we fought to make sure that hate speech was not included in our mailings and materials.

I know many people were unhappy with it, but I’m proud that we pushed forward with that. Some very nuanced and complex conversations were had, and it would not have happened without the work of my fellow comrades on the Board, like Danny Caine, Angela María Spring, Jenny Cohen, Melanie Knight, and everyone on the Board who sat and listened.

I'm really grateful for the care, respect, and listening during my time on the Board, and to the staff who had to withstand a very tumultuous period — new CEO, the pandemic, and various other issues.

I'm grateful to those who fought alongside us and pushed us to think more complexly, and for all of the bookselling community. I grew up very sheltered, insecure, and shy and I don't really think I understood what community was until I became a bookseller.

The bookselling community (both at home and across the country) welcomed me with open arms. I found my people — people who supported me, encouraged me, pushed me to be better, and challenged my thinking. I'm proud of the opportunity to be a part of the bookselling community and do my best at the time to serve them while on the Board.

A friend of mine who also used to be a bookseller, Afton Montgomery, once said that bookselling is more of an identity than an occupation. It is very much a part of my identity. I'm not a former bookseller; I am and always will be a bookseller.

That’s what's so great about being back in publishing and sales: I’m working with booksellers again.

I get to talk to them about what they think about our books and what's happening in the industry and how we can help them.

The only reason I am not working in a bookstore today, is simply because at the time I did not find a place in my hometown that honored and was aligned with my same values and could pay me properly for my work. I deserve better pay (as do others) and it just was not a sustainable career path for me and my family. (Shoutout to my local bookstore Palabras Bilingual Bookstore which is a safe, community-centered literary hub in Phoenix and a store I wish had existed when I was growing up here.)

I know that there are many owners out there who are not getting paid, but just because an owner is not getting paid doesn't mean that their staff should be grateful for what little they're making. It’s unfair for everyone involved.

Bookselling is an instrumental part of publishing, and booksellers do a lot of vital, invisible work that is underappreciated. Things like blurbs and reviews, matching books with their readers, working with their local communities, etc. Booksellers are highly skilled culture workers.

BTW: Would you like to share anything you’re currently working on? (I want to give you chance to put a spotlight on something you're currently doing at Sarabande!)

I am personally so proud that my first two books with Sarabande that I get to handsell to booksellers is the poetry collection Intifadas (April 2026) by Palestinian poet and artist Edward Salem and the essay collection Lucky Creatures (June 2026) a debut by the Filipino writer Joseph Trinidad! As a Filipina and advocate for Palestinian liberation, I feel so honored.

Recently, Sarabande Books launched the Sarabande for Booksellers newsletter. Through that, we’ll share galleys, merchandising ideas, potential discounts, and co-op opportunities.

Soon, we will also start hosting little bookseller gatherings, where we can talk about our books and get bookseller feedback. It’s also an opportunity to be in community with each other.

Sarabande has a lot of supporters in the independent bookselling community and we want to reinvigorate and expand those relationships to be a bookselling partner.

We get it. We're a nonprofit press, and we know what margins are like in this industry, so we want to be co-conspirators and collaborators with the bookselling community and find ways of supporting each other.

BTW: That sounds so cool. Is there anything else that we didn't get to talk about that you want to mention? Or any final words you want to share with booksellers?

I know that Winter Institute can be really overwhelming, especially for a lot of booksellers who are introverted, like, “Whoa, we like our books — not being in a room of 1,000 people.”

But going to Winter Institute was how I was able to find my people. I was feeling extremely isolated in my hometown, having moved back home and was trying to make new friends, but also working in a predominantly white space and just struggling to figure out how I fit in.

There are a lot of criticisms toward the conference and goodness knows I’ve been a harsh critic of the Institute for awhile. But I also hold a lot of love for the Institute as well.

To me, Winter Institute is where you can find your people in this industry. I would not be where I am if not for Hannah Oliver Depp who I reconnected with at my first Institute as a bookseller.

Hannah introduced me to Angela María Spring, and those two gave me a home and introduced me to everyone else. And that would not have happened if I hadn't attended Winter Institute.

Give it a chance and see if you can find your people there.

I'm so happy I went and I'll never forget what Hannah and Angela (and everyone else who crossed my path) have done for me, not just as a bookseller or a publishing professional, but as a person in the world.

Also I don’t want to forget to give a special shout-out to the BIPOC conference, IGNITE: what a dream!

That has been asked for again and again, and to finally see that come to fruition, is just…wow. There’s comfort in seeing yourself reflected in the room.

There is a breadth and depth of understanding there that cannot be articulated or explained. That is an amazing space and I'm very excited. I'm jealous of new booksellers who get to go and have that as their first experience.

What a great and beautiful thing. I hope it's able to continue to grow.