I suspect that one of the reasons that I developed such a fondness for Angua von Uberwald is because I had long ago fallen in love with a very similar character: Anathema Device. A witch, occultist and professional descendant, Anathema (her mother thought it was a pretty word) is the last surviving descendant of Agnes Nutter, who's book of Nice* and Accurate Prophecies sold spectacularly badly; this was possibly because they were completely and utterly accurate.
It was a match made in literary heaven when Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett sat down to write their version of the Apocalypse. An angel, Aziraphale, and an angel who "did not so much fall as saunter vaguely downward" to become a demon, Crowley, find themselves attempting to avert the end of the world as they actually rather like it. Among the characters who cross their paths is Anathema, a no nonsense creation of brilliance.
*It used to mean precise, or exact.
It's quite possible that the initial description of Anathema tells you everything you need to know about her. She's fiddling with a thauodolite, measuring leylines, muttering what sound suspiciously like incantations to herself alone on a hillside in the dark. And because she's a witch, and therefore staggeringly practical, there isn't a single charm, amulet or spell to ensure her safety; she saves it all for the bread knife secured at her waist.
When she takes up in an unlikely friendship with the accidental Antichrist (oh, surely you want to read it and find out what I mean by now?), her strength of conviction in simple, ethical living and common sense colour his thinking. Considering that means that the contents of a nuclear reactor can disappear overnight, that's some influence.
It also falls to Anathema to right a family wrong with the help of Newton Pulsifer, descendant of the man who burned Agnes Nutter at the stake. She approaches this with not a hint of soppiness or gritty determination, just the practicality and earthy sense with which she approaches everything.
While Anathema is not the only memorable female character in the book ("there are two ways a child called Pippin Galadriel Moonchild can go. Pepper chose the other one."), she balances its fantastic subject, Biblical characters, comedy philosophy and generous helping of satire with her strength of character and dry wit. And I'm not the only one to think so; there's even a band named in her honour.
Gaiman and Pratchett have sold the rights to make the book into a film to the only man who could possibly do it justice; whenever the inimitably wonderful Terry Gilliam can scrape together the funds we'll be able to watch it.
Alex Roumbas is Deputy Editor of Shiny Shiny and she has a big fat crush on Neil Gaiman. He's a nice Jewish boy, after all.