Justin Barisich

Founder of Little Writing Man // Copywriter and Storyteller

Good Stories, Well Told.

I’ve always had a way with words.
Writing them, analyzing them, editing them, speaking them, performing them – and even sleeping with them for a stint in college.
And from our long courtship, I’ve always found that the words enjoyed my company just as much as I enjoyed theirs.
So after years of going back and forth, I decided to go into business with my words – and a practiced hand – to help others create good stories, well told.

So use me for my wordsmithing skills. Hire me as your word mercenary.
I’m here to help you find the story you always knew was there, and then set it on its feet to walk out and win over the world.
And I promise you, it’ll go far.

After all, I am a man of my words.
— Justin Barisich / Little Writing Man
[email protected]
(404) 590-3928

United States of America

Portfolio

Public Speech

The Luck of the Outliers

Original speech I gave at the Berger Family Scholarship Dinner in New Orleans, as part of the Opportunity Vanderbilt fundraising initiative.

Personal Essays

The Five Hundred

After Hiking Sweetwater with the Dog

The breeze urged us on, told us to dig deeper. That’s when I mentioned the dog.

YARN

On Spoken Word Poetry: Learning to Project Your Voice in the Shadow of Another’s

Poetry Reader Justin Barisich muses on the spoken word form.

Thought Catalog

In Defense Of The Great Grammy Heist: Why Hip-Hop Isn't Dead Because Macklemore And Ryan Lewis Won

Well, they're actually pretty adept at defending themselves, but hell, I thought I'd try to help balance out the hate a little bit.

Written Poetry

RATTLE

"People of the Megabus" by Justin Barisich

The plump, elderly woman beside me sleeps with chin to her distended chest. She rouses from a road bump, spots me reading a book of poems, and assumes me to be educated.

gutwrench.

"Eleven" (for another Katrina anniversary)

May you remember like a child: the gulf’s bastard breathes in 11 today, and we’re still trying to wipe away her flood lines marking our sinking houses,

Nately's Magazine

"Under the Skin"

Wrap our cracking skin in deep-root truth. Wear our hearts out where sleeves should go - help whoever's trying to fathom them not need to remove so much.

Eyedrum Periodically

"The Two Taylors"

A found/blackout poem I crafted from a TIME article titled “Taylor Strikes a Chord,” as written by Jack Dickey about how pop’s savviest romantic conquered the music business.

The Five Hundred

"What Work Was" (After Philip Levine)

We sit on our stained sofas at home waiting with eyes glued to screens. For work. You remember what work was --

WORDPEACE

"Our Psychiatric Casualties" (a found poem, expounded upon)

Doctor, how much fear and tedium should a soldier swallow?

Spoken Word Performances

Atlanta Fringe Fest 2016

"All These Things I've Said" [Audio]