Calling itself the “YouTube of Travel”, Simonseeks is a community where “travellers, journalists and celebrities” can write guides and get paid half the revenue created by a user clicking through from your guide to make a holiday booking, or clicking on an advert. Like YouTube, content is reviewed by other users, meaning that popular guides get bumped up the Top Rated list and the likelihood of making money from your guide increases.

In many ways Simonseeks is a good concept. Nixon certainly seems to think so – given that he’s confidently aiming to position the site as one of the 10 most popular British travel websites within a year (and with a track record like his, it’s hard not to believe him). Editorial credibility comes to the project in the form of Telegraph travel writer Nick Trend as editorial director, and Simonseeks also promises that all guides will be checked to in-house editorial guidelines before they are published. At time of official launch last Thursday, the site had over 1000 articles, and contributions from over 300 professional travel writers.

Nixon predicts that within a year, “there will be professional ‘simonseekers’ who have been able to give up their day job and earn and income from their travel writing”. Writers will become part of a “digital cottage industry” of workers earning from home, with professional writers and travel enthusiasts sharing revenue generated by site visits.

But whether the website will continue to attract professional writers is questionable – given that the income from articles is likely to be small in relation to the payment they would receive for a newspaper or magazine article. And they’re actually mixing their messages somewhat – they’re trumpeting the guides as being professionally written, but also as: “Independent travel guides. For you. By you.” What is nice though is the promise of nurture: “If your writing isn’t good enough to be used on Simonseeks, we’ll let you know. If we can, we’ll try to suggest ways in which you could improve.”

There has already been some discussion on the topic between established online travel writers, many who aren’t that sure about publishing their work alongside articles from the general public and Cliff Richard. While having high profile figures writing for the site will undoubtedly have whipped up interest, it seems that the website is really best suited to ‘travel enthusiasts’ eager to make a bit of money on the side. That’s certainly the line some national travel sections are taking – pitching it as an opportunity for travellers to get paid for something they’d probably be willing to do anyway on websites such as virtualtourist.com or tripadvisor.com. Is this going to turn into the travel equivalent of iStockphoto, where amateurs end up squeezing the professionals out of the market with their willingness to work for very little pay?

However, the real issue is that of how the payment gets weighted: inevitably, popular destinations with mainstream hotels are going to get the most hits, and consequently make the most money. Nixon admits himself that those who write guides about the most unusual places won’t be the people that are interested in making money: “If your favourite place is the Himalayas and you write a passionate guide on the Himalayas, then it’s going to be more of a niche interest. There aren’t many hotels, so there’s not much monetised value for that. We give people a list of all the places that are making a lot of money – like Paris and London – in our weekly email. But we also say that if people still want to write about other less-popular places then they will be published, because it’s not all about money: people still want to do research on the Himalayas.”

People are sure to be driven by the bunts to some extent; how can Nixon expect people to be able to give up their day jobs otherwise? So if this potential cottage industry of travel writers is really going to take off, the danger is that we’re going to have a site with a narrow range of popular content as everyone strives to create the ultimate statement about a romantic weekend in Paris.

And how much ad revenue is Nixon really expecting the site to make? Surely there’s a subscription model that could easily be dropped in here, even if only for heavy users. Nevertheless, it’s an exciting idea, and a quick and easy way to claw back some of those weak pounds frittered away on the continent.

But what makes this app really interesting is the option to download several titles from Random House’s recently launched ‘Book and Beyond’ project, a select group of titles which carry ‘rich media content’ – videos, games, quizzes, photos, author interviews, interactive graphics and the option to read or listen to the text at the start of each chapter. Readers who download Lee Child’s thriller Nothing to Lose, for example, will be able to watch an animated graphic novel featuring the book’s protagonist.

Director of Random House Group Digital Fionnuala Duggan explains the publisher’s motivation: “The development of the ebook presents a tremendous opportunity for us to create new reading experiences. We are experimenting with ways to create new interactive content which will not only appeal to traditional book lovers, but will also reach out to a brand new readership.”

The fact that this additional content might be able to attract a whole new breed of reader is exciting stuff for the publishing industry – assuming that a workable solution is eventually found to the already very problematic issue of digital rights, it could be a massive boost for business. Crucially, the use of rich media has the potential to attract people who may have previously dismissed reading as boring.

This weekend, the director of the 2009 Book Expo America Lance Fensterman argued that publishers are no longer “just printers of books”, but content providers. Admitting that the any excitement currently surrounding the book industry is down to “anything digital”, he pointed out that digital publishing is actually an opportunity for publishers to cut costs: “Electronic support presents an opportunity to deliver your content in a much cheaper fashion. You don’t need to print something, you don’t need to ship it, you don’t have to worry about refurnishing, or restocking or returns.”

Publishers such as Random House envision the new breed of digital reader existing alongside the traditional book lover, but with the likes of Oprah, Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz fuelling the ebook love, it looks inevitable that sales will continue to increase, and publishers – benefitting from reduced costs – will increasingly focus on the digital.

If America’s Expo is anything to go by, however, publishers are still determined to make the traditional book work – even if they don’t know how yet. “There will always be people to consume content in a printed book form,” said Fensterman. “The question is what percentage of the population would that be? Would it be three per cent or 75 per cent? We don’t know, but we have to offer an option as an industry.”

The company is by no means struggling – one Mills and Boon novel is sold every three seconds in the UK – but the group have recognised the potential of a community site for growth, as they are already attracting considerable numbers to their website – more than 180,000 visitors last month. 

Members of the community can create their own profiles, blogs and book reviews, discuss hot topics in the forums, and get hints and tips on writing their own steamy novel. A readers’ community is not an original idea in itself – sites such as Completely Novel work in a similar vein to bring readers and writers together, while LibraryThing is a vast online book club – but this is the first from a publisher, for such a specific audience.  

Still, Mills and Boon are not alone in their efforts to embrace the social networking audiences. The last couple of weeks have seen a huge number of book publishers join Twitter in an effort to increase their digital presence. As far back as 2001, the Digital Media Association was warning publishers that the only way to stay competitive was to satisfy consumers by offering convenience – now Twitter has provided the ailing book industry with the tool to do just that. From Penguin Books to The Good Pub Guide, publishers have begun posting regular updates and gathering followers, creating a dialogue with their readers, which, in time, will allow them to better judge what those readers want.  

Elizabeth Dare, from Edbury Publishers, believes that “the growth potential is huge. We can communicate immediately when things happen, and can respond fast when people get in touch. It’s good for a publishing company to have direct contact with readers.” Edbury is one publisher that has benefitted by using Twitter creatively: publishing a poem written exclusively for Twitter by Ben Okri, posted as a line a day for ten days. The move immediately attracted 450 followers. 

It may be that poems and novels will increasingly be distributed in this bite-sized manner, with readers keeping up with the story as they would a television drama – as each new instalment is broadcast. The Japanese are crazy for the mobile-phone novel, while The Telegraph have just finished publishing one such digital instalment story: Corduroy Mansions, the first online novel by Alexander McCall Smith. Running from December last year and completed this February, the Telegraph published one short chapter each weekday, and invited readers to contribute ideas as the story unfolded, which the author then tried to incorporate into the story where he could. 

The key, it seems, is to make readers feel like they are part of something immediate; publishers and authors are increasingly using social networking to keep their readers close. But while they seem to be understanding Web 2.0 on the marketing side of things, lets hope they manage to licence their content to the next generation of smartphones and e-readers – only then can they be truly said to have joined the 21st century.

For years they’ve been the preserve of teenage nerds, criticised for being antisocial, violent and even dangerous. But a study reported this week found that British sales of computer games could easily outstrip that of music and DVDs this year. Google are acknowledging the demand, with the addition of gaming themes to iGoogle, so you can customise your homepage to reflect whatever colossal waste of time you happen to be obsessed with. Incidentally, the stating the obvious comment of the year goes to Google’s VP of search products, Marissa Mayer when discussing the launch: “The iGoogle engineers, all of them are gamers.”

Games could provide a lifeline to the blighted advertising market too. After Obama’s hopeful visage was plastered across EA Games like Burnout and Madden 09, there’s news that in-game adverts are “stickier” than those on telly – people will take in the messages more, so the advertising is more valuable, so a greater premium can be charged.

Scientists trying to look cool periodically come along and say how great games are, and there’s been another one this week, saying that video games improve 3D spatial awareness and are helping to breed the next generation of doctors and engineers. This reminded us of this story from last year, where doctors who played video games were found to make better keyhole surgeons. “Left, left, now jump over that aorta…oh you missed. Game over.”

Nintendo Wii sales in particular are soaring – the Japanese manufacturer said it sold nearly three million during 2008 in this country alone. The increased sales reflect a change in attitude: a seperate survey earlier this month found that parents consider video games a great social experience, while more than half believe gaming brings their family closer together. They must all be thinking of the Nintendo Wii then, because I’m pretty sure watching your husband/boyfriend/son/brother shoot zombies doesn’t count as quality time.

The company best known for the Mario Brothers franchise have certainly repositioned itself to fit into the everyday person’s life – with party-type games featuring simplified characters and graphics. You can even learn life skills like maths, cookery and, er, walking, with the Wii Personal Trainer series, though unfortunately there’s no “Find A Girlfriend And Move Out Of The Basement” title as yet. And there’s also that very effective celebrity-driven ad campaign – the Redknapps look like they’re having so much fun!

The Wii has clearly been a pretty shrewd business move for Nintendo – apparently even the Queen is a fan - but is understandably viewed by hardcore gamers as having sold out. Choice rants from reviewers include descriptions of Wii games as “crushingly lightweight” and calls for the company to “redeem itself” after the “horror” of a 2008 gaming conference.  

But the hardcore are not the only ones unhappy with the effects of mass market gaming: a recent campaign from the Department of Health pictures a boy playing video games next to the words “Risk an early death, just do nothing”. Unfortunately, the boy in question is holding a controller closely resembling that of the Sony Playstation – the games company is considering suing. Get that kid a copy of Wii Fit – problem solved! Right?

We reported yesterday on the new Google Latitude application, which tracks the location of its user (finally, the perfect tool for any overbearing parent/boss/stalker). And now there’s the ‘PMS Buddy’, designed to help men keep track of their partner’s menstrual cycles. The service, which has had an online presence for a while, is already “tracking” 17,771 women, “saving relationships, one month at a time!” How very noble.  

Founder and chief executive of the PMS Buddy Jordan Eisenberger was talking it up yesterday: “There are a lot of people out there who think we’ve been misogynistic, but we tell them it’s a free country and if you don’t like it don’t use [it]. We think it has an altruistic side to it. It helps people.”

George Norman, the Software News Editor for findmysoft.com seems pretty enthused: “Since you already have an iPhone, you might as well put it to good use,” he writes, “and what is better than using it as a shield against you PMS struck, hormonally imbalanced, always up for a fight, screams louder than a shrieking harpy of a girlfriend?” Nice.

Maybe there’s some link-up potential with Latitude, where PMS Buddy places a glowing red icon around anyone in the area suffering from cramps, so men can avoid the aggro and hurled objects of that curious beast they call “woman”. Or maybe they should just grow some balls and make her a cup of tea instead of consulting the iPhone oracle for relationship advice…

What happens when real and virtual worlds meet? It’s an intriguing concept – and one that’s explored by the creative collective Blast Theory in their latest project ‘You Get Me’. The interactive game, which was showcased at The Royal Opera House last weekend, took place in two London locations simultaneously, as well as in virtual reality.

On Sunday, eight players sat at computer terminals in Covent Garden while eight teenagers ran around Mile End Park in East London. Each player controlled a teenage ‘character’, with the characters inhabiting a satellite-image print of the park. Their mission? To track down one of the eight ‘runners’, who were transposed as characters on-screen, and running around in East London too. In the real world, the teenage ‘characters’ were equipped with hand-held computers, satellite tracking systems and walkie-talkies; the runners were then able to provide clues to their whereabouts, which the players in Covent Garden could hear through headphones. On screen, the runner’s locations were marked by small, white dots. 

Taking my position at a computer, I eagerly entered the game. Each of our runners, I discovered, had a back-story. Mine was called ‘Rita’, and she had an unfortunate habit of getting into trouble but never asking for help. As well as tracking down my runner, I was challenged to answer a question by Rita.

“Why didn’t I ask for help when I was drowning?” she asked.

I didn’t have any idea, but set off anyway. It took me some time to locate her, mainly because she kept disappearing off my screen. I wasn’t sure if this was a fault with the game or if Rita was playing hard to get. Either way, it was frustrating.

Looking at ‘You Get Me’ as a computer game, it seems simple, childish almost. But as an experiment linking real and virtual realities it’s exciting. When I did eventually find my runner, she initiated a conversion, telling me more about the time she was drowning. I realised ‘You Get Me’ is about bringing people together as much as bringing worlds together. Here were patrons of the Royal Opera House, playing a game with a bunch of London teenagers – probably not their average Sunday afternoon activity.

Blast Theory has a track record for putting on this sort of thing; they’re known for engineering situations questioning how we live. In 2003, for example, they created the mixed reality game ‘Uncle Roy All Around You’, where players had to work together to locate the elusive ‘Uncle Roy’.

In the case of ‘You Get Me’, the meeting of real and virtual worlds was nothing spectacular. It was fun, but I felt the cross-over only took place on quite a basic level.  Still, Blast Theory are not alone in their exploration of the real-virtual merge – earlier this year, the Guardian reported on a Playmobil experiment that again bridged the gap between real and virtual realms.

So despite being slightly underwhelmed by my experience of Blast Theory’s mixed reality, I’m definitely keen to see what happens next in this field. How far can the real-virtual merge go?  

The show is clinical; it certainly doesn’t feel like art. Mainly because every piece of work, each the result of a WITH ‘solution’, is accompanied by a huge company logo. According to the blurb, each ‘solution’ involves an ‘agent’, who will engineer and live out a variety of experiences ‘on behalf’ of a paying client.  It’s possible to employ a WITH agent to ‘become a child of your own’ or even to ‘create the impression that you have passed away’.

Their website is slick, but a little creepy. The contact details on the site are limited to an email address, and some of their services just seem mad. How could your life be improved, you might ask, by someone causing havoc in your name – a solution the company label ‘VIOLENTOME’? What WITH offers is so bizarre, it might be some elaborate hoax.

Thankfully, it is. WITH is an artistic collective posing as a legitimate company, mocking western society’s obsession with convenience by offering the ‘ultimate in time-saving delegation’. The artists (or ‘WITH representatives’), Alasdair Hopwood and Sean Parfitt, explain there are also a number of other ways you can interpret the project.

“It’s a critique of self help,” Sean tells me, “and it’s questioning the artist’s supposedly therapeutic role within that industry.”

On a more basic level, Sean explains, “it’s also exploring the Internet as a site for installation.”

Yet the identity of WITH still seems unclear. Despite being an art project, WITH are, in part, an active company. The current exhibition, for example, is the result of a commission from the Rokeby gallery itself. As a client of the company, the gallery has received documentary evidence of their experience – a memory stick nestled in a presentation box, photographs, and framed email correspondence. It makes for very strange viewing.

What makes this project interesting is how completely the artists have immersed themselves in the industry they’re attacking. They’ve got a professional front complete with baffling corporate jargon, and real-life clients; they’ve run recruitment fairs, marketing campaigns and have benefitted from phantom sponsors. When I ask Sean what his position is within the company he hesitates, as if unsure how to juggle the opposing roles he’s given himself. 

I wonder at what point he and Alasdair are able to stop being ‘WITH representatives’ and return to the role of artist without negatively affecting the impact of their project.

WITH is clever – in the way it questions what people are willing to believe, and its eerie mimicking of corporate capitalism. But the artists have almost done too good a job: it can be hard to see exactly where the company ends and the art begins.

WITH is at the Rokeby gallery in London until October 3

“…I feel closer to him here,” she says.

The girl shows no sign of noticing my entry, but instead gets up and walks to a table directly behind me, so I have to step out of her way. She picks up a snow globe, shakes it.

She’s not mad, and she’s not being rude. I’m at a Barbican theatre production (or, depending how you look at it, you could say I’m in a Barbican theatre production). Helium, billed as  a “short adventure for one”, is just 35 minutes long and only admits one audience member at a time.

I’ve only been given the bare bones of the story, and I wonder what I might be required to do. I know only this: every year, on her birthday, Bella is given a box from her grandfather with a single helium balloon inside. It’s his way of telling her something, and Bella is on a quest to discover what.

On my arrival I receive an invitation for a “birthday party, on the 13th of February”. It’s the first of many clues. Once I’m in, the action takes places in a number of different – and really quite compact – rooms. I’m close to the performers, but they never directly interact with me.

After I’ve met Bella I find myself inside a theatre, then a plane, then a hospital room… There’s a blue-grey gargoyle – who also turns out to be an important part of the story – opposite me, pacing up and down, troubled. Over the airwaves comes the voice of Bella’s grandfather.

“Oh, you thought I was addressing her?” he asks, suddenly. “No, no, no. Bella has the diary – I am speaking to you, stowaway.” Just like that, I become an important part of the action.

The great thing about Helium is the way it keeps you guessing. The company behind the show, Slung Low, have a reputation for originality – in their style of performance and the venues they use (they did one show in a car park, another through an iPod) – and this show, the winner of the 2008 Oxford Samuel Beckett Theatre Trust Award, is no different.

Or, I suppose the point should be that it’s very different. There’s the clues – the snow globe, the periodic table, a playing card, the gargoyle – to help you work out the mystery, and the use of digital media is inventive – in the plane, the hatch at my feet swings open and it appears that there is a city on fire beneath me.

In the final room I stand still, waiting, after the action has stopped. A steward opens the door. “It’s time to leave,” he whispers. Like a child at a particularly good birthday party, I don’t want to.  Far from being an intimidating, experiencing theatre at ground level is a lot of fun – especially, as there’s a riddle to work out.

We pass through a room filled with boxes. Bella’s grandfather’s boxes. One of them is addressed to me, to take away. Inside it is a helium balloon.