aBOUT tHE bOOK
Memphis Boy…And a DJ Too!
William K. Richardson knows what you expect from a memoir. A lesson. A happy ending. A reason to feel inspired. He offers none of those things. Instead, he hands you a broken hand, a failed English class, a mother’s funeral, and a stark confession: I chose loneliness. “Memphis Boy…And a DJ Too!” is not for people who want uplift. It is for people who want the truth.
The book moves through Memphis in the 1970s and 80s, a city of barbecue joints, river bridges, and cracked pavement. Richardson takes you inside the DJ booth at a disco called 2001, where he learned that liquor sales matter more than packed dance floors. He takes you inside the wrestling ring at Westside High, where he built a program from nothing. He takes you inside his childhood home, where his father’s fists sent his mother running down the street with blood on her face.
How Richardson writes will catch you off guard. He does not polish his mistakes or dress them up with literary flourishes. His sentences land like jabs, short, direct, and meant to sting. He calls himself a terrible boyfriend. He admits he cried himself to sleep for weeks after his mother died. He does not ask you to forgive him. He only asks you to listen.
The core message of this memoir is brutal but simple. The wounds you carry from childhood do not stay in the past. They follow you into every choice you make about love, work, and family. Richardson’s biggest regret is never marrying or having children. He traces that fear directly to the violence he witnessed as a boy. The book speaks to anyone from a broken home, anyone who has sabotaged a good relationship, and anyone in midlife staring at a future they did not plan for.
Target readers include fans of raw, unpolished memoirs like “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius” or “The Glass Castle.” This book also belongs in the hands of teachers, coaches, nightclub veterans, boxers, and anyone from Memphis who recognizes the specific weight of that city. But really, it belongs to anyone who ever chose work over love and woke up alone to wonder what happened.
How Richardson writes will catch you off guard. He does not polish his mistakes or dress them up with literary flourishes. His sentences land like jabs, short, direct, and meant to sting. He calls himself a terrible boyfriend. He admits he cried himself to sleep for weeks after his mother died. He does not ask you to forgive him. He only asks you to listen.
The core message of this memoir is brutal but simple. The wounds you carry from childhood do not stay in the past. They follow you into every choice you make about love, work, and family. Richardson’s biggest regret is never marrying or having children. He traces that fear directly to the violence he witnessed as a boy. The book speaks to anyone from a broken home, anyone who has sabotaged a good relationship, and anyone in midlife staring at a future they did not plan for.
Target readers include fans of raw, unpolished memoirs like “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius” or “The Glass Castle.” This book also belongs in the hands of teachers, coaches, nightclub veterans, boxers, and anyone from Memphis who recognizes the specific weight of that city. But really, it belongs to anyone who ever chose work over love and woke up alone to wonder what happened.
The Story
William K. Richardson knows what you expect from a memoir. A lesson. A happy ending. A reason to feel inspired. He offers none of those things. Instead, he hands you a broken hand, a failed English class, a mother’s funeral, and a stark confession: I chose loneliness. “Memphis Boy…And a DJ Too!” is not for people who want uplift. It is for people who want the truth.